Ghosts
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: CONCLUDED WITH THE EPILOGUE! Ayumi accidentally witnesses part of an illegal business transaction. Now, the events that transpired are drawing everyone into a race against time to stop a madman. Rated for thematic elements.
1. The Encounter

**Detective Conan**

**Ghosts**

**By LuckyLadybug**

**Notes: The characters are not mine (except for the creepy guy, who is inspired by a character in one of Lizzie's blurbs), and the story is! Though I must give credit to Lizzie for giving me the idea for the initial concept. I really don't know if this is in-character at all, and I've debated it back and forth for a while, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head, as usual. The last thing I want to do is to have anyone go out of character. But I tried to keep their personalities intact while I was writing, and to make it seem at least half-way possible. Opinions on this are very much welcomed!**

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* * *

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The night was dark and chill, the frosty wind signaling the soon and sure arrival of further snow. Clouds had gathered in the sky, obliterating all signs of moon and stars. The white blanket that had already fallen lay adorned on the streets and sidewalks, and over the grass. It was an almost picturesque sight, but for the small girl desperately trying to find her way home, it was much too cold and a hindrance.

She had been sent out on a simple errand to the store, but it had been snowing on the way back and somehow she had gotten herself lost. Now she roamed the empty streets, longing for warmth and for someone who could help her get home.

Shivering, she brushed her dark brown bangs out of her blue eyes, wishing with all her might that Conan-kun was there. Then she would have the courage and strength to know what to do. He always could make her feel better. But silently she made her resolve to find her way back. She would do it all by herself, and Conan-kun would be proud of her.

As she rounded another corner, she saw a park up ahead. For a moment she perked up hopefully, but then she realized that it was not the one close to her house. Swallowing hard in disappointment, she moved forward slowly and cautiously, not wanting to trip in the snow. Maybe, if she cut through the park, she would be able to get to someplace familiar. It was worth a try.

The snow was not as deep in parts of the park, as the tall trees' branches helped to keep some of it away. But she still stepped cautiously, and as she approached the middle of the area, she could hear voices.

Again hope rose in her heart. Perhaps someone there knew how to help her get home! But then she wondered who would be out this late. She was not certain how long she had been out, but it had seemed like hours, and being around Conan-kun had helped teach her to look for anything suspicious. When she got close enough that she could hear what was being said, she ducked behind a tree.

"This is the money," a deep and dark voice announced. She bit her lip, feeling a shiver go down her back. It was not from the cold. "Now . . . I want the information you promised. We're getting impatient."

"Of course, of course, my friend," another voice purred. This one frightened her even more, but she was not certain why. But at his next words alarm eclipsed her entire being. "But first, we have a guest." She heard him coming through the snow, and realized that he was coming for her. Panic-stricken, she broke away from the tree and tried to run, but he soon caught up to her and grabbed her by the arm.

He lifted her off the ground, leering at her with wicked, gleaming eyes. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he commented. "Such a lovely little girl. You shouldn't be wandering around alone at this time of night."

She struggled, trying desperately to get free. "Let me go!" she cried, feeling that it was of the utmost urgency to get away from this evil man. As she looked into his sneering face, she saw something there that she had never seen before from anyone, and she never wanted to see it again. Frantic tears pricked at her eyes as she tried with her free hand to pry off the man's strong grip.

Now the other man, the one belonging to the first voice, was coming over to them. She barely paid attention, as she was so focused on getting away from the man who was not planning to let her go. "What are you going to do with her?" he grunted, and she did look up as he calmly lighted a cigarette. Shivering, she knew that she was in a very serious situation, and that she might not even be able to ever get free. Would they kill her?

The second man grinned lecherously. "Oh, I don't know," he mused, never taking her eyes away from her. "It's very bad for little girls to go spying on people in the middle of the night," he mock-scolded.

"We should just get rid of her now," the first man remarked, his green eyes barely visible through his mop of blonde bangs. "She's seen us and could identify us again."

The other started to put his arm around her. "Let's not be so hasty," he replied. "I could use her to . . . keep me company."

She did not know what that meant, but she did know that she never wanted to keep him company at all. She began to kick out at him, wriggling any way possible to stay as far away from him as she could.

The blonde man blew a puff of smoke into the harsh night air. A flicker of something went through his eyes, perhaps disgust. "It would be better for her to die rather than to have that fate," he growled. "Those kids of yours probably beg every day to be killed."

A fate worse than death? She could not comprehend what that would be. Hot tears started to break loose, chasing each other down her cheeks.

"Give her to me," the green-eyed man ordered now. "I'll take care of her." His eyes darkened as he sensed what the business associate was about to say. "The price of the information doesn't include the girl." With his left hand he withdrew his gun from inside his coat, pointing it at the other.

For the first time a flicker of fear crossed the beast's face. Then, nervously, he began to laugh. "You're serious about this, aren't you," he said shakily.

"I hate your kind," was the cold reply. "I only deal with you because sometimes you have something useful to tell me." He held the weapon steady. "Let go of her."

The man was silent, during which he seemed to be debating, but then at last he thrust her away, sending her into the snow. Before she could get up, the blonde man took hold of her wrist and hauled her to her feet. "Vodka, make sure he doesn't try to sneak away before I come back," he ordered. "I don't trust him."

She looked up, for the first time noticing a third man there. He was shorter and somewhat heavyset, and his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. It was strange, she thought, to wear them in the middle of the night. But then she did not think any more about it as she began to be dragged along by the blonde. She cried out, grabbing at his arm. "I . . . I just want to go home!" she sobbed.

He looked down at her but did not reply. "Vodka!" he said sharply, and the third man snapped out of his trance.

"I'll stay here with him, bro," he said with a nod, holding out his own gun.

The blonde nodded in approval. "See if you can get him to tell you what he supposedly knows," he said, and started to walk off, still dragging her with him and expecting her to walk.

She tried, but continually slipped in the snow when she could not keep up with his long strides. "I don't want to die, mister!" she pleaded, the tears still falling as he led her around a hedge. There was not anyone else around in this corner of the park, and she knew that no one except the other two men would hear her if she screamed. She was petrified.

He looked down at her again, and she shrank back from the intensity of his expression. "You're too young to understand what kind of man I just got you away from," he said darkly, "and with any luck, maybe you'll never know." His gun clicked, and again she struggled to pull free.

"I've got family and friends, mister!" she cried then. "I don't want to leave them! I . . . I don't want to leave Conan-kun. . . ." She looked up at him firmly, determination in her eyes as well as terror. "Maybe . . . maybe he doesn't care about me the way I care about him, but . . . but I don't want to leave him! I want to be with him. . . ."

He watched her, brief surprise registering in his eyes at her bravery inspite of her fear. But then it was gone, and his eyes were cold again.

He bent down in front of her, getting down close to whisper into her ear. "I'm going to fire this gun, and when I do, you're going to scream," he told her. "Then you're going to run away from here, and forget about everything you saw. You will, won't you?" He looked into her terrified blue eyes and saw her nod shakily. Then he stood again, confident that she would do as he said. For one so young, such a frightening experience as this would probably be blocked out, or deliberately left untold out of fear. And he could see that she was sincere in this desire to return to her loved ones. If that was what she wanted most, he felt assured that she would be willing to do what he wanted in order to get back to them.

Swiftly he fired his gun into the air, once, twice, three times. And she screamed with all her might, putting all the imagined pain and agony into it that she could muster. Then, without looking back, she fled through the snow, concentrating only on escape.

Up ahead, in the distance, she could finally see an exit. Reaching it was her goal, and once she had, she stood outside the park gates as she tried to catch her breath and gain her bearings. He had let her go. . . . She felt such a mixture of emotions over that---relief, confusion, fear. . . . She had been certain that he would kill her. She wondered if he had always planned to let her go, or if he had only made that decision later. But that did not matter now.

As she looked around, she suddenly realized where she was. She knew how to get home from here! Breathing a soft prayer of gratitude, she started running again. She would not feel fully safe until she was back home.

* * *

He lighted another cigarette after they had gotten into the car. Then he turned the ignition key and pulled out of the parking lot. He was silent, his green eyes narrowed in contemplation, and he probably would have remained so if Vodka had not spoken then. 

"You told him that you'd dumped the body in the trunk of the car so that it wouldn't be found," the heavyset man remarked. "But it's not there, is it?" He looked at his associate searchingly, trying to determine what he was thinking. But that was impossible. His face was impassable, devoid of any visible feelings. He usually was like that, unless he was either smirking nastily over something or especially furious.

The blonde grunted. "What do you think I did with it?" he retorted.

Vodka hesitated. "I don't know," he admitted.

"You heard the gun go off. You heard her scream." He turned a corner, his voice emotionless.

Vodka nodded slowly. For some reason, he still was unconvinced. He was not sure why it was. Perhaps because he had known the other for so many years. Or perhaps for another reason. But in any case, something told him that his ally had lied to their contact. "Bro . . . you let her go, didn't you?" he said finally.

He turned onto the highway, leaving the city behind as the snow started to fall again. "Why would I do that?" he returned.

Vodka shrugged helplessly. "Why would you?" he shot back.

Another silence. "Maybe she reminded me of something. A ghost from the past." He threw the cigarette butt out the window and reached for another. Vodka knew better than to question him further.


	2. Two Weeks Later

**Notes: This was supposed to be a one-shot, but thanks to SN's encouragement this is now a multi-chapter mystery story!**

**Chapter Two**

It was obvious to Ayumi's friends that she had been through some sort of harrowing experience, but for a reason that they did not understand, she refused to speak of it. She seemed somewhat in a daze, and anxious besides, as she would continually start when she was tapped on the shoulder or spoken to, but when asked what was wrong, she would emphatically say that nothing was, and smile.

"What could have happened!" Genta cried in distress at the end of the school day, two weeks after the incident. Ayumi had hurried out as soon as the bell had rang, before anyone could get a chance to talk to her further.

"Maybe she's worried about Conan being absent because of having the flu! . . . Or maybe she got her heart broken!" Mitsuhiko suggested. "Maybe she finally confessed her feelings to Conan and he told her that he cares about someone else!"

Genta banged a fist on his desk. "That Conan!" he growled. "If he's hurt her like that, then I should go beat him up!" His eyes flashed. _No one_ would hurt Ayumi as long as he was around! He would see to that. She deserved kindness and understanding, and someone who would give her all the love possible in the world. And Conan could never give her that. Both Genta and Mitsuhiko were aware that he loved another.

"Save some for me!" Mitsuhiko chimed in now.

Ai Haibara, watching them, shook her head slowly in some semblance of amusement. _Ah, puppy love,_ she thought to herself with a slight smirk. Children were so innocent at that age, and so cute as they tried to imitate adult emotions. She wondered if she had ever been like that. She recalled various things from her very young years, when she had been Ayumi's age and earlier, but most of those early times blurred into experiences she recalled with two specific people, who had been more important to her than anyone else. She had loved them both, in different ways---one as a sibling, the other . . . well, it had started as a childhood crush, and had developed over the years into so much more. She sighed, not wanting to think about that.

At last she spoke. "Ayumi isn't upset about anything Conan did," she said flatly.

Both boys turned to her in surprise and confusion, blinking dark eyes at her. "How do you know?" Genta demanded.

"Did she tell you what's wrong?" Mitsuhiko chimed in.

Ai shook her head. "Women can tell things that men can't," she answered, carefully placing her notebooks into her backpack. "Ayumi had a bad experience two weeks ago, but it didn't have anything to do with Conan. Something scared her." Her eyes narrowed. "Something scared her very badly."

Genta and Mitsuhiko exchanged looks. "What could have scared her?" they both cried then, looking back to Ai.

"Maybe she found a body!" Mitsuhiko exclaimed, thinking over the cases that they had solved with Conan and how dead bodies seemed to always turn up in the strangest places. After a while, that could definitely get to be too much, especially for someone sweet such as Ayumi.

"Maybe she saw someone getting murdered!" Genta declared.

"But if that happened, wouldn't she have told us?" Mitsuhiko frowned. "Wouldn't she have told Conan?"

Ai stood up, ready to leave. She thought that what Genta suggested was not that farfetched, but that there would have to be more to the story than that. Under normal circumstances, it seemed to her that Ayumi would have said something, after everything they had come through and all the crimes that they had already witnessed. "Maybe the killer saw her," she put in. "She might've ran away from him before he could catch her. Or he might have sworn her to secrecy if she didn't want to get hurt. He could've threatened to kill her if she told anyone."

"Then we should go beat him up!" Genta said instantly, slamming his fist into his palm.

"We won't let him rest until he's paid for scaring Ayumi _and_ for killing someone!" Mitsuhiko added.

Ai walked past them, still vaguely amused over the simplistic minds of children. It amazed her sometimes, that even after all the horrors they had seen while solving mysteries, they could still be so innocent. She hoped that it would always stay that way, though she wondered if Ayumi's innocence could have been shaken by whatever had frightened her. She intended to speak with Conan about it. "You won't be able to do anything until you actually know what happened," she remarked as she walked past them.

They stared after her, knowing that she was right.

* * *

Ayumi stood in front of the Mouri Detective Agency, shifting uncertainly as she gripped the straps of her backpack. Part of her wanted so badly to go inside, to talk to Conan about what had happened a fortnight earlier. She knew that the man had told her not to tell anyone, and she did not want to go against his wishes since he had spared her life, but she felt so uneasy about the whole thing. She wanted to tell someone how she felt, of the terror that still gripped her heart and caused her to make sure that she was not being followed.

In her nightmares she still could hear the balding man's smooth, scary voice, and he would chase her, saying that he wanted her to come with him and that everything would be alright; he just wanted her "company." She would run, trying desperately to get as far away from him as she could, but she would always fail. He would catch her and she would scream and struggle, all to no avail. Then she would wake up crying out, bringing her parents in to find out whatever was the matter. But she could not tell them the truth. She could only say that she had been having bad dreams, but not what they were or why she was having them.

With a sad sigh she turned away. She would not betray the secrets. She would not betray her strange saviour.

But as she turned to go, she nearly crashed right into Ai, who was standing and watching her on the sidewalk. The redhead looked at her calmly, her blue eyes not expressing surprise in the least at their meeting.

"I knew you'd come here," she said then. "You've been coming every day for a while, but then you leave without going inside. You want to talk to Conan, Ayumi. Why don't you?" She wished that she could get Ayumi to speak with her or Conan. She had the feeling that Ayumi would never tell Genta or Mitsuhiko, but that she might tell Conan or Ai, if they were patient with her. Still, she wondered how long this would go on. She could see that Ayumi was feeling very lost. She wanted to say something about her experience, but something was holding her back. Ai wished that she could help the poor child to not be afraid.

Ayumi backed up, biting her lip. "I . . . I can't," she whispered, shaking her head as the conflicting emotions surged through her own cerulean orbs. "I . . . I promised. . . ."

Ai frowned. Then it must be exactly as she had surmised. "You promised who, Ayumi?" she demanded. "Did you witness a crime?" She took several steps closer, seeing the brunette's expression becoming more and more trapped. "There's some secrets you aren't obligated to keep," she said in a softer tone, not wanting to intimidate her. "If a secret hurts you, you shouldn't keep it." She could tell that Ayumi was torn, and it made her angry that someone had placed such a small child into that situation. It was very cruel, in her mind.

Ayumi hesitated. She longed to say something, but if she mentioned the horrible man who had wanted to take her, then she would also have to tell about the one who had let her go free. She was certain that the both of them had been involved in something illegal, but still, the blonde one had saved her. She did not want to get him into any trouble. And what if word somehow got back to the scary man that she was still alive? Would he come after her? No! That could not happen!

Tears filled her eyes and spilled over. "I can't talk about it!" she sobbed as she turned and fled, leaving a concerned Ai standing on the sidewalk. "I just can't!"

* * *

Gin was sitting at a sidewalk café, reading the newspaper and smoking as usual. It seemed that the news was largely the same from one day to the next. There were tales of murders, robberies, embezzling. . . . This issue spoke of an ingenious heist that Kaitou Kid had pulled the previous night, as well as the murder of a respected businessman, and the arrest of several people who had been stealing money from the company they worked for. He was about to set the leafs aside out of boredom when a another article caught his eye. He scanned it over, frowning darkly as he did, and then folded up the paper, slamming it down hard on the table. In response, the cups and saucers jiggled.

Vodka, who was sitting on the other side of the table, started at the sudden noise. "What's wrong, bro?" he asked, looking over at the blonde assassin. Gin actually looked quite annoyed, and Vodka knew that there were not a lot of things that could irritate his ally so much. Gin was normally quite calm in the face of possible threats, whereas Vodka was often the one who would grow visibly frustrated.

Gin growled. "There was another murder last night, and the man's kids disappeared." His green eyes narrowed as he spoke. "I think we both know who was responsible for that." For the last month, such murders and kidnappings had been occuring in various parts of the country. Gin was positive that the man whom he and Vodka had met in the park two weeks earlier was behind it all. He would tell the children that it was their fault about their parents' deaths and that he would take them away, where they would never be found. Then they would suffer far worse than if they had simply been killed at the scene. Most of them did not even witness the crimes and would not have needed to have anything done with them at all, but the man's abominable feelings knew no bounds.

Vodka swallowed, nodding slowly. It sickened him as well, but there was not a thing that they could do about it---not as long as their boss still wanted Yusuke Ushio to remain alive.

"It's disgusting." Gin lighted another cigarette, and from the fire that burned in his eyes, Vodka gathered that Gin had a personal reason for his feelings. He did not merely dislike what Ushio was doing because of the principle of it, even though that was certainly reason enough. Vodka felt certain that Gin had dealt with Ushio before, or at least someone like him. Heaven knew there were plenty.

Vodka shrugged helplessly. "I know, but we can't do anything about it," he said now. Not that he thought Gin would try, but he felt that it needed to be mentioned anyway.

Gin grunted. "At least we kept one girl from becoming his property." He stood up, heading for the car. "Even that's a victory over his kind."

Vodka got up as well and followed him, wondering if he dared to ask. Gin was in a very bad mood, not that Vodka blamed him, but yet he seemed as if he might be willing to talk. As they got into the Porsche, the shorter man finally spoke again.

"Bro . . . what did you mean when you said that kid reminded you of a 'ghost from the past'?" He had the feeling that whatever it was connected somehow with Gin's strong feelings over Ushio's practices. He was still puzzled over why Gin had let the child go, as his associate had never fully explained the reason. Gin was not known for his kindness . . . not anymore. Both he and Vodka had long ago been corrupted by the Black Organization, and Vodka had doubted that either of them possessed any compassion for anyone.

Gin was silent as he turned the ignition key and pulled out of the parking space. He did not say anything in reply until they were several blocks away. "She just reminded me of some people," he answered finally, keeping his eyes on the road. "People I used to know a long time ago, in another lifetime."

Vodka knew he was taking a chance by even suggesting it, but he asked, "Is one of them Sherry?"

Gin did not answer. He did not want to, and in any case, he felt that he did not have to.

* * *

Conan was sitting up in bed, a mask over his nose and mouth, as he listened to Ai describe Ayumi's behavior from a few short moments before. His eyes narrowed deeply in concern. He agreed with Ai, the child was most likely too frightened to say what had happened because of being threatened. What he was not certain about was how to get her to speak to them.

"It's possible that this person threatened everyone around her, and not just her alone," he said when Ai had concluded. "Maybe she's afraid that this person will come after us if she talks about what happened." He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

Ai nodded slowly. "I thought of that," she admitted. Then she hesitated. On her way in, she had brought the evening paper from the doorstep, and she had not been able to help but notice the same article that Gin had been reading. She had to wonder if it was at all possible that Ayumi had seen whoever had been murdering men and abducting the children. That would certainly be enough to give her a terrible fright.

Conan frowned behind the mask. "What is it?" he asked, recognizing that she was not telling him everything.

Ai sighed, pushing the paper onto the bed. "Kudo . . . is there any chance that Ayumi could have seen this man, or someone like him?" she said quietly.

Conan looked it over, allowing a small gasp. He, of course, had heard about the monstrous crimes, but he had never once thought of the possibility that Ayumi could have seen the one responsible---he supposed because he did not think she would ever be able to have gotten away if she had. But now he was starting to wonder if it was something that he should at least consider. He set the paper aside. "Maybe we should ask her about this," he mused.

Ai got up and brought the cordless phone to him. "Maybe she'll tell you," she suggested softly.

Conan nodded slowly and dialed the number. The phone rang for some time before it was picked up on the other end and the detective heard a quiet voice answering. _Well,_ he thought to himself, _at least she's home and not out wandering somewhere._ "Hello, Ayumi-chan," he greeted. "Haibara-san told me that you came by earlier."

He heard a gasp of surprise. "Conan-kun! . . ." Ayumi was glad to hear from him, but he also detected a certain apprehension in her voice. Conan knew that it would not be easy to get her to come back, if he could convince her at all.

"I'm sorry you had to leave so soon," he continued. "I would've really liked to see you."

A hesitation. "I'd like to see you, too, Conan-kun," she said at last.

Conan wondered if he dared to relax. "Well . . . if you could come by before dinner, that would be great," he said hopefully, exchanging a look with Ai.

Another hesitation, longer this time. Conan narrowed his eyes as he listened, almost sure that he could hear soft sobbing. "Conan-kun," Ayumi finally choked out, "did Ai-chan tell you what happened what I came?"

Conan sighed softly. "She did," he admitted. "Ayumi-chan . . . we're both worried about you. We know something is wrong." Deciding that he did not have anything to lose at this point, he read a snippet of the article over the phone and then said, "We need to know, does that sound like someone you may have met?"

Ayumi's eyes had widened in alarm. She was almost positive that it was the same man, that horrible man. And the article meant that he was still at large and taking other children just like herself. She gripped the phone cord, wondering if she could possibly stay silent any longer now that she knew this. More tears came to her eyes. Maybe . . . maybe she could mention him, if it would help to get him caught. She would not have to mention any of the details, or about the man who had saved her. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm pretty sure I saw him. . . . It must've been him . . . Oh, Conan-kun! . . ."

Conan's eyes widened. He had not expected to get this admission, and he had to admit that a part of him had been hoping that it would not be true. Ayumi was so young, too young to have to encounter such evil. "When, Ayumi-chan?" he said urgently. "When did you see him?" He noticed Ai perk up and lean forward, and he nodded to her, indicating that he was on the right track.

She sniffled. "Two weeks ago, in a park," she replied, and cast a furtive glance around, as if she expected the beast to suddenly appear out of the woodwork. No one was there, but she pressed herself against the wall anyway. Somehow it helped to ease her mind, at least somewhat.

"Did he see you?"

The new tears broke free. "Yes!" she wailed. "He saw me. . . . Oh, it was horrible. . . . He was such an awful man!" She shut her eyes, trying to block out the memory of feeling him grab hold of her, lifting her up to look into his glittering, wretched eyes and to see the twisted smile. But the images were still there, whether her eyes were opened or closed. She could not stand it. She wanted to run to someone for protection from the wicked face---to her parents, or to Conan, or even . . . even to the man who had saved her. He seemed to know the awful person, so surely he knew how one could be protected from him.

Conan could not quite decipher some of her words through the weeping, but he thought he was getting the gist of it. It was making him grow more outraged by the minute. Asking the next question proved difficult for him. "Ayumi-chan, I know this is hard, but I need to know---did he do anything to you?" He leaned forward himself, feeling extremely tense with this entire matter. And he was astonished that Ayumi had managed to escape with her life intact. But . . . was she alright in other ways?

"No," Ayumi answered, and Conan felt an immense relief wash over him for that blessing. "He wanted to take me, but he didn't get to. . . ."

"Why, Ayumi-chan?" Conan demanded. A new thought came to him. "Was someone else there?" That would make the most sense. He seriously doubted that Ayumi could ever escape such a treacherous person all on her own. There must have been another, one who had somehow helped her get away. But who could it have been? A passer-by in the park?

Ayumi's eyes widened. "I'm sorry, Conan-kun," she exclaimed then, her voice trembling, "I have to go!" With that she hung up without so much as a goodbye and sank to the floor as she tried to control the tears that insisted on falling. She could not bear to lie to Conan. She could not say that no one else had been there. She wanted that monstrous man to be caught before he succeeded in hurting anyone else, but she also did not want to betray her protector. She wondered what she was ever to do.

Perhaps, she decided after a long moment, she should try to find the blonde man again. Maybe he could tell her what to do. In determination she stood up and headed for the door.


	3. The Search, and What Came of It

**Chapter Three**

_She had grown up with him always near her. She did not remember her parents, and she had been sent to America at such a young age, to live under the guidance of one of the elder Japanese operatives. That man had been raising him as well, and gave them educations in the Japanese ways of life, to prepare them for when they would return there. Both children were foreigners in the States---she was Japanese, he was Norwegian. He was eight years her senior; by the time she remembered much of anything about him he had been around eleven._

_He had been her protector, her confidant, her best friend. When she had been ridiculed at school for being Asian, he had always stood up for her, threatening to fight anyone who would bully her. And he had taken on many such people, always sending them away in misery and shame. Fighting had always been something he excelled at. She knew that they were training him to be one of the Organization's top agents, but at that point she did not understand what that would mean. She did not understand how it would change him._

_She hated saying goodbye, when the time came. She was only ten, and he eighteen, and they wanted him back in Japan for a while, to finish his training there. She had told him that she loved him, and he had given her one of his rare, soft expressions and said that he loved her too. He did not return for two years, and when he did, she had started to notice the changes in his personality, his speech, and his habits._

_He had never smoked before. Now, he almost always did. And where there had been compassion, he had grown hard in his heart. He had never been a people person, and neither had she, for that matter, and perhaps that had been part of their attraction to each other. But even though he still treated her with kindness and their mentor with respect, she sensed a coldness, a bitterness around his heart that had never been there before. When she asked him about it, he was never willing to tell her._

_She was not certain when her feelings had started to blossom into something as more than friendship. At such a young age, everyone believed that it was a passing fancy, a child's crush that would fade. But over the years her feelings for him had only increased, and he had seemed to return them. Their age difference did not matter to them. She was sixteen, and he twenty-four, when they finally admitted the extent of their true feelings for each other. She remembered how upset she had been over the betrayal of the one other person in America whom she had believed was her friend. She went to him for comfort, and he gave it, holding her close and gently stroking her hair. While he was always kind to her, he was rarely so affectionate, and she savored every moment of it. That had been when they had first kissed. She remembered how light and happy she felt, and how he had chased away her sorrow. She believed that he would always be there with her, no matter what else happened._

_Later that year, their mentor had died of old age, though he always believed that it had been poison. And he had grown more cold and bitter._

_She remembered when she first met the man who would be his partner in the Organization. He had been curt with her, and she believed him to be quite frustrating. But her love had known him before, during his time in Japan, and they seemed to get along alright. Still . . . she wondered what they could have seen over there, what could have changed him, for something there must have. And she began to hate the Organization for what it was doing to him._

_Everything had gone downhill after that. After her graduation, she was sent to Japan as well, to be a scientist for the syndicate. He had continued to change, his soul becoming more twisted. Their relationship had fallen apart, and though she knew that he was struggling with so many inner demons that she could never comprehend, she had never expected the betrayal that she had gotten when her sister, a traitor to the Organization, had been killed by him. She had felt so many things then---confusion, disbelief, sorrow, hatred. . . . The man who had been her best friend, her true love, was gone. In his place was the bitter, angry, powerhungry assassin who now served the Organization and only them. She came to hate him, and his partner too, as well as everyone mixed up in the syndicate._

Ai started out of her reverie when she heard Conan calling into the phone. Frowning, she looked over at him. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Conan threw the phone onto the bed in vexation. "Ayumi hung up on me when I asked her if there'd been someone else there in the park!" he cried. "There must have been, and for some reason she doesn't want to tell me!" But he could not understand what that reason would be. He could see how she would not want to speak of the horrible man who had tried to take her, but what would prevent her from speaking of her rescuer, whoever he or she might be?

Ai grabbed up the phone, redialing the number. She listened as it rang, her eyes narrowing grimly. "Either she's not answering, or she's left," she reported after over ten rings. She turned the phone off again and set it on the nightstand, then looked to Conan. "We can't let this rest. Someone has to go over there." She turned and headed for the door. "For all we know, that man might have even been stalking her. He could be at her house right now."

Conan threw back the covers, knowing she was right. He put his feet into the slippers by the bedside and stood as well. "I'll be ready in a minute," he directed, heading for his closet.

She frowned at him. "Are you sure you should go?" she retorted. "You're still sick."

"It's been a couple of weeks. The worst is over," Conan answered firmly. "We have to get to Ayumi!"

Ai nodded in agreement, heading out the door.

* * *

Ayumi was not certain where to begin looking for the blonde man, but she decided that if she went to the area where she had first seen him, maybe that would be a good start. But then she paused and simply stood on the street corner in contemplation. If she went back there, she might meet the horrible man again, the one she was trying to get away from. No, she could not do that. But maybe she could find her rescuer in the main part of town. If she just went there, and started looking all around, she might find him. After all, he surely went there sometimes. 

She did not really stop to consider how long it would take or that she could end up completely bewildered and lost. She was very young, and had her mind set on one goal, and one only. No matter how long it took to accomplish it, she would make sure to get it done. And she had to find that man.

Over the next several hours she wandered all over the business districts of the city, searching desperately for him or even the one who had been with him. After all, if she found the one he had called Vodka, he could probably take her to the blonde. But as she wound her way through the crowds, trying to avoid being knocked over or stepped on, she could not seem to locate either one of them. She went into stores and restaurants, up and down streets, and into alleys, and several times she thought she had found them, only to be disappointed.

At last she stopped to rest beside a telephone pole and to get her bearings. By now night was coming on, and as she looked around at all the neon lights coming on and the increasing traffic, she realized that she did not know where she was or how to get home. Biting her lip, she swallowed down the lump of anxiety that was forming. This was just like last time, only now there were lots of people around. Even so, she felt just as alone as she had on that snowy night.

Slowly she walked forward, her steps cautious and nervous, until she had gotten out of the way of the crowd. But when she did, she almost wished she had not. Just ahead, coming out of a nearby nightclub, was the horrible man, the man who haunted her dreams and her waking thoughts as well, the man who wanted her "company." Panic-stricken, she ducked around the back of a nearby car and then around to the side, her heart racing wildly. He was coming that way . . . he would see her. She was certain he would! And if that happened . . . she did not want to think about it. The blonde had said that she would have a worse fate than death, and she did not want to know what that was.

Without quite thinking, she tried the door of the car and found that it was unlocked. Grateful, she pulled it open just enough to scramble inside and hide on the floor. Then she stayed there, perfectly still, not daring to move. Was he gone? Had he stopped in front of the car? She thought she felt eyes upon her. Oh! He must see her! She curled into a tight ball, willing herself to disappear even though she knew she would not. Any minute she expected the door to be flung open and to be grabbed. But one minute became five, and five dragged into ten, and nothing happened. And she was so exhausted from her long and fruitless walk. Before she quite realized what had happened, she had fallen asleep.

* * *

When she finally began to awaken, she realized that the floor was moving under her. At first she was confused, believing that she was still in her dream, and she simply lay there for a while longer as she slowly reentered the world of the conscious. Then she heard voices. 

"I can't believe you left the car unlocked."

"Sorry, bro . . . I thought it really was locked!" A pause. "I must've not shut the door tight enough. Maybe the seat belt got caught in it. . . ."

A click. "That's no excuse."

The car began to fill with cigarette smoke. Ayumi coughed softly, sitting up and trying to wave it away. As she did, she realized that the voices sounded familiar. Her eyes widened. She had found the blonde man after all!

Abruptly the car came to a halt. "What was that?" the blonde growled, having heard the coughing. He started to turn around, and was stunned when Ayumi peeked around the other side of the seat. For a moment his expression showed utter and complete disbelief, and they simply stared at each other, neither one really knowing what to think. Both were stymied.

At last Vodka broke the silence. "What are you doing in here?" he cried in astonishment, just as bewildered as his comrade. He would have been less surprised if someone had risen up from the back holding a gun. To find such a young and innocent girl there instead . . . why, it was very nearly unbelieveable! And, he realized then, she looked familiar.

Ayumi shrank back slightly, suddenly feeling shy. But then, remembering what she had come to ask about, she resolutely turned back to the green-eyed blonde. "I'm sorry, mister," she apologized softly, "but I was trying to get away from that man! I . . . I thought he'd see me, and the car wasn't locked, so I got in and . . . I guess I must've fallen asleep," she admitted sheepishly.

"But I was looking for you anyway!" she exclaimed now, feeling slightly braver.

"You were looking for me," he repeated, still seeming stunned. Sometimes bad with faces, it had taken him a long moment to place who she was---but at this statement he realized and remembered. Yet he did not understand. If he had glanced at Vodka, he would have seen that his associate was just as confused. Neither of them could comprehend why a small child would deliberately seek out one of the most dangerous operatives of the Black Organization.

She nodded firmly. "I wanted to ask you what I should do," she said slowly. "I wanna get that horrible man caught, because he's been going around taking other kids, but I don't want to tell anyone about you when you told me not to. I don't want to get you in trouble." She looked down at the floor and then up again. Both men were continuing to regard her as if she was speaking the impossible. She shifted uncertainly. "It's just that I don't know how to talk about the awful man without talking about you, too," she went on then, her voice apologetic. "My friend was asking what happened, because he figured that something had gone wrong, and I told him about the mean man, but then he asked if someone had helped me. . . ." She looked away, tears coming to her eyes again. "I had to just hang up! I couldn't lie to him! But I couldn't break my promise to you, either, mister!"

The blonde exchanged a look with Vodka, not certain what to make of this. The girl was serious. That amazed him more than anything else. She had not wanted to betray him, so she had come looking for him instead.

"What should we do, bro?" Vodka asked uncomfortably in a low tone.

His comrade growled. "We can't keep her with us," he snapped, which Vodka already knew, of course, "but if we make her get out now, in this area, Ushio might find her." And that would not bode well for either of them. Ushio would not take kindly to having been lied to, and it could cause him to turn against the entire Black Organization, which the syndicate's leader would not be happy about. That would in turn reflect badly on both of the operatives in the Porsche. Not to mention that he just simply did not want Ushio to have the triumph of getting the girl, especially when he had gone to the trouble of keeping her away.

Now Ayumi climbed into the front, over by the green-eyed man. "I don't wanna cause any trouble," she said softly. "I just want to know what I could tell my friends that wouldn't be bad for you."

"There's not really anything you could say that wouldn't lead back to me eventually," he replied shortly. He knew that even if she resolutely refused to mention him, the police would keep questioning her and she might finally let something slip. Or during their investigation something might simply turn up that would link Ushio with him.

Vodka was not paying much attention to their conversation. "Bro, Ushio's coming this way!" he announced suddenly, seeing the balding man up ahead. Ushio had noticed the Porsche and was definitely strolling over to it. And Vodka was growing very anxious over what would transpire if the girl was found with them. Ushio would see her if she did not immediately get out of sight.

The blonde cursed. "Hide somewhere," he ordered Ayumi, and she immediately crawled onto the floor by his seat, using the long folds of his coat to stay unseen. The green eyes narrowed in annoyance at this, but he did not have any time to protest before Ushio was knocking on the window. Muttering, he opened it and glared coldly at the smirking man in front of him.

"What do you want?" he demanded angrily.

Ushio clucked his tongue. "Now, is that any way to address a business partner, Gin?" he mock-scolded. From his expression, it was apparent that he knew his visit would annoy the two Black Organization agents. That was no doubt his intention from the start.

Ayumi shuddered at the sound of the voice from her nightmares. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing herself against both the front of the seat and the back of Gin's legs, and prayed that he would keep her safe.

Gin felt her small form huddling against him, but he tried not to give any sign of that. "If it were up to me, you would've been eliminated a long time ago," he said darkly. "Monstrosities like you shouldn't be allowed to live."

"Like me?" Ushio repeated in mock hurt. "You're the assassin. I don't kill anyone."

Gin took a draw on his cigarette. "Just because you hire people to do it for you doesn't mean your hands aren't bloodstained," he retorted. "You've still committed murder in your heart. And in any case, what you have done other than that is worse than anything I've done." His eyes narrowed, and Vodka again saw that flash of indignation and rage. "The things you do to those kids are abominable."

"So you've said. But you've only heard rumors." Ushio leaned on the car, and Gin gave him a withering look. He hated for this snake to touch the vehicle at all, let alone hang on it as if it was his to command.

"I've seen enough to show me it's not just rumors," the blonde answered, "and if you didn't come here with a specific purpose in mind, then I'll ask you to leave so that we can go, too." He was growing impatient, moreso as he continued to feel the child's body shaking in terror. He would not be able to conceal her for an extended period of time, and he wanted it to be over right now. This was not something he wanted to deal with on a regular basis.

"Actually, I do have a specific purpose," Ushio smiled. "I keep thinking about the little girl in the park."

All three occupants in the car tensed. Gin hoped that it was not noticeable. "What about her?" he snapped.

"Well, I wonder where you might have buried her," Ushio said, his smile broadening. "I was thinking I'd like to go . . . pay my respects."

That was the last straw. Immediately Gin reached out the window, shoving him away from the car. "Drop dead," he hissed. Without waiting for a response, he rolled up the window and revved the engine, speeding around the nearest corner. He was fuming at the audacity of that beast. With Ushio, it was too easy to read between the lines. Gin knew what had really been meant by the eerie words, and he could tell that Vodka did too. Sometimes it was very hard to restrain himself from simply pulling out his gun and ridding the world of that monster. Someday he just might, if he was pushed far enough.

They were several blocks away before Ayumi dared to emerge from her hiding place. When they stopped at a semaphore, she cautiously climbed out from under Gin's coat but stayed on the floor beside him in order to remain out of sight. Swallowing the lump that had returned to her throat, she spoke. "Is he going to be mad at you?" she asked timidly.

Gin grunted. "No more than usual, as long as he doesn't suspect that I have you alive," he returned. The light turned green and he pressed the accellerator, zooming ahead. "And I'm not going to have you much longer. You're going straight to your home."

Ayumi hesitated. "I don't know how to get there from here," she finally announced, and looked down, away from the frustrated glares.

"What's your address?" Gin shot back. She told him, and he nodded in recognition. "I know where that is. I'll drop you off a couple of blocks away. Can you get home from there?" he growled, half-sarcastically. He wondered how he had gotten into this. Of all cars to hide in, why had she climbed into his? It only made things more difficult for them both. He wondered if he had made the right decision two weeks previous. And yet he could not see himself doing anything else. For some reason, he had wanted to spare this child's life. He was not even certain that he fully understood why. And he knew Vodka did not.

Ayumi smiled. "I can do that!" she replied, and looked up at him again. "Gin-sama!"

He nearly threw on the brakes again. "What did you call me?" he demanded. Vodka looked first at him, then at Ayumi in stunned shock.

Ayumi giggled and shrugged. "That awful man said your name is Gin," she answered brightly, "so I'm going to call you Gin-sama!" She leaned back against the front of the seat. "You've saved me twice now."

As the initial astonishment wore off, Vodka found that he was amused. "Bro, I think she likes you," he snickered, deciding that this was definitely the strangest experience that they had been through recently.

"Shut up," Gin grumbled.

They did not yet realize that they were being followed.


	4. The Race Begins

**Notes: Thank you to everyone who has made suggestions for improvements and pointed out plotholes! I have been taking all of that into thought and tweaking the story to hopefully make certain things clearer.**

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* * *

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**Chapter Four**

When Conan and Ai arrived at Ayumi's home, to their astonishment they found that the front door was wide open and the living room was in an uproar, with overturned furniture and appliances everywhere. Quickly they ran inside, knowing that this did not look good at all. Maybe, they worried, their suspicion was correct and Ayumi had not been alone in the house when Conan had called.

Conan pointed to the stairs. "It doesn't look like anyone's home, but we should check everywhere. You look upstairs, and I'll search down here," he directed, but then trailed off when he heard a moan coming from the kitchen. As he and Ai watched in alarm, Mrs. Yoshida stumbled out, gripping the doorframe as she held her other hand to her head.

"Yoshida-san!" Conan gasped. "What happened?"

The woman blinked, trying to focus on the two supposed children in front of her. "I . . . I don't remember," she admitted weakly. "I came in and found everything was a mess, so I called for Ayumi . . . and then something struck me on the head." She swayed slightly, and Conan and Ai hurried forward to assist her, but then she managed to get her balance again. "Is . . . is Ayumi here?" she asked them now, worry obvious in her voice and her eyes.

Conan swallowed hard. "We're not sure yet, Yoshida-san," he admitted, but he was increasingly afraid that she was not, and that she had been taken by whoever had broken in and hurt Mrs. Yoshida. Carefully he took her hand and tried to guide her to a chair, which Ai righted from its upsidedown position. "You should sit down, Yoshida-san," he directed, and she did not protest.

She plopped into the soft furniture and leaned back, continuing to rub her head. "I can't imagine what happened," she said woozily. Ai went to call a doctor while Conan stayed with her.

"Yoshida-san, I know it must be hard right now, but I need you to tell me if you remember anything else," he said now. "Did you hear anything before you were hit---a strange sound, a voice?"

Mrs. Yoshida tried to concentrate, but found it difficult. "I . . . I don't think so," she said slowly, and then looked at him with concern. "But where's Ayumi? Was she here when the house was wrecked?" Through the fog in her mind, she recalled that she had not seen Ayumi since arriving home, nor any sign of her at all. This deeply concerned her, but in her current state she had not yet come to the conclusion that Conan and Ai had.

Before Conan could answer, Ai came back into the room. While telephoning the doctor, she had been walking around the house with the cordless phone, searching for any sign of Ayumi. "She isn't here," she said grimly, "and she left this." She held out Ayumi's detective badge, which Conan stared at with alarm. That meant they would not have any way to trace her! But had she left it on purpose, or had she been forced to by her probable abductor? Or had he simply taken it from her?

"Does this mean someone took her?" Mrs. Yoshida cried now, the shock of this news bringing her further into the present situation. She grabbed at the badge, turning it over in her trembling hands.

Conan took a deep breath. "I'm afraid that's a possibility, Yoshida-san," he replied grimly, and looked to Ai. "You'd better call the police too."

"I have," she answered, her blue eyes narrowing. "They're sending Inspector Megure over now."

Conan nodded, satisfied. "Alright. In the meantime, we should search the house for any possible clues," he directed. "Yoshida-san, you just rest until the doctor comes. Haibara-san and I will take care of it." He looked to Mrs. Yoshida, seeing that she was about to attempt standing. Gently he held her down, knowing that she was still too weakened to move.

"I'm alright," she frowned in reply. But as she tried to get up, dizziness overwhelmed her and she had to sink back into the chair. "Maybe . . . I'm not that alright," she said sheepishly.

Conan sighed and shook his head. Since Ai had already looked upstairs, they both began to go through the downstairs rooms. Everything was a disaster, but it did not look like any clues had been left, nor was anything material missing---or so they thought.

After the doctor and the police arrived, and the house was scoured again for any evidence, Mrs. Yoshida suddenly realized something. "The picture of Ayumi that I keep on the bookcase is gone!" she gasped, pointing to the large, wall bookcase in the corner. A third search of the house proved that it was, indeed, gone and that it had not simply been kicked underneath something else. This deeply concerned the police, as well as Conan and Ai.

"I don't think Ayumi was here when the house was torn apart," Conan said to the redhead as they stepped out of the way of Megure's men. "I think whoever it was wanted her, though. He probably took the picture so he'd know what she looks like. If he already had her with him, it isn't likely that he'd want a picture."

Ai narrowed her eyes. "If he hasn't found her yet, we have to prevent that from happening," she said grimly.

Conan nodded. "And we've got a lot of ground to cover, especially since we can't just track her down with the badge. Let's start now." He headed for the door and Ai followed him. _Don't worry, Ayumi-chan,_ he said silently. _I won't let anything happen to you!_

_

* * *

_

Gin was throwing a cigarette out the window when he happened to glance into the mirror on the door. "Hasn't that car been behind us for a while now?" he growled, indicating a dark Chevrolet convertible with the top up. He was almost sure that he had been seeing it for several blocks, and he was starting to suspect that it was not a coincidence, especially when he realized that he could not see into the vehicle. Its windows were tinted.

Vodka glanced up at the rear view mirror. "I think it has been," he frowned. "But I don't recognize it."

Ayumi also tried to look up, but it was too high for her to see from her position on the floor. "Why would someone follow us?" she exclaimed, feeling a new burst of alarm. What if it was Ushio? Maybe he had not believed anything Gin had said and he was coming for her! Maybe he would hurt Gin and Vodka and take her away with him!

Gin cursed and sped ahead, wanting to test the other car. Sure enough, it did the same, and when the Porsche crossed into the next lane to turn the corner, the convertible did as well. Now they knew that it truly was following them. And Gin had the feeling that the mysterious driver knew that they knew it.

"What do we do now?" Ayumi cried in fright. She started to rise up to see what was happening with the car that was shadowing them.

"Stay down!" Gin snapped harshly, and tore around another corner. "We'll have to try to get rid of whoever it is. Otherwise we'll be leading them straight to your place." He was also starting to have suspicions that Ushio, or someone who worked for him, was their stalker. That would make sense. It had seemed strange to him that Ushio had approached the car in the first place, and now he was wondering if the unwelcome visitor's sick question about where Ayumi was buried and wanting to "pay his respects" had three meanings instead of two---the surface meaning, the true explanation of why Ushio wanted to visit the grave, and . . . perhaps he had known all along that Gin had not killed her, and that there was not actually a final resting place to go to. But how would he have found out? Could he have seen Ayumi get into the car?

Ayumi tried to sit back down on the floor, but as the Porsche whipped around another corner, she went sprawling on Gin's lap instead. The blonde barely paid attention at the moment, as he was focused on getting away. But it seemed almost impossible to do.

"Do you think they might start shooting?" Vodka asked now. He drew his gun, just in case.

Gin turned another corner, heading into a parking garage. "It's possible," he replied, "but I don't think they will, unless they don't care whether we're dead or alive." And he had the feeling that they were wanted alive. Ushio would want to know what Gin was doing with the girl, if he indeed did know that Gin had her. And he would probably want the girl to be alive too---though, Gin thought in disgust, he might not actually care much one way or another, as long as he got to have her.

Ayumi gripped at Gin's coat in terror. Her thoughts were tumbling over and over in a whirl, and she felt frightened tears coming to her eyes again. Would they make it out alive? Would Gin-sama end up hurt? She knelt on the seat, hugging him tightly as they went up each level of the parking garage. The other car was still behind them. It must be, or else Gin-sama would not be driving so fast. She had been through so many life and death situations since meeting Conan-kun, and during each one she wondered if it would be the last. This time was not an exception.

Then she heard a whistling sound go past the side of the car. They were being shot at! She crouched down further, burrowing against Gin's dark coat.

Gin cursed again. "Shoot back!" he ordered, and Vodka leaned out the window, taking several well-aimed shots at the other car. One slammed into the tinted windshield, cracking but not breaking it. Another bounced off one of the side mirrors. The convertible swerved when another clipped a tire, but then came at them again.

"You'd better do something fast, bro!" Vodka exclaimed as they emerged onto the roof. "We're running out of room!"

Gin growled. As they neared the edge, he began to calculate in his mind the distance to the next building, and the speed they would need to reach it. Then, while the convertible was still delayed, he put the car into reverse, intending to shoot forward.

Vodka gaped. "You're not going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?" he cried. Ayumi looked up in alarm.

"It's cliché, but right now it's our best chance," Gin grunted, and then fully realized that Ayumi was on his lap. That was extremely dangerous. Muttering, he looked to Vodka. "Take the girl," he ordered. Vodka did, holding onto her tightly. There was not time for her to get into the back seat right now.

Pressing hard on the accellerator, he drove off the edge, and for one of the longest moments in Ayumi's life, they were airborne. Then, thankfully, they came down on the other side, just as the convertible was arriving on the roof they had just left.

Vodka dared to look up, still feeling shaken from what they had just done. He breathed heavily, slumping back into the seat and still holding Ayumi in his arms. "Do you think they'll try to follow us?" he asked finally, and was glad that it had been Gin driving and not him. He doubted that he would have been able to pull off such a manuever successfully. Most likely, he thought, he would have gotten all of them killed.

Gin was already heading for the inside of the new parking garage. "We can't take any chances," he answered.

Ayumi shuddered. "Gin-sama," she said weakly, slumping against Vodka, "I don't feel so good. . . ." That had been worse and more frightening than any amusement park ride. It reminded her of when she and the other Detective Boys had had to drive a car out of an exploding building into a swimming pool at the next building over, and that had not been something she had wanted to repeat.

Gin felt exasperated. "You're not going to be sick, are you?" he snapped as he wound the car down the various levels. He did not want to be saddled with this responsibility. It had been years since he had looked out for any child, and he did not want to start again now. Besides, he was not fit for any such thing. He was a ruthless killer, not someone that an innocent girl such as Ayumi should have as a role-model or idol. Even he recognized this.

"I hope not," Ayumi said softly, wishing that they would stop moving.

"That makes two of us," Gin grumbled. "Maybe you'd feel better if you went to sleep." And if she was asleep, then Gin would be able to concentrate better on what needed to be done. Having her awake and talking to him and hugging him and calling him "Gin-sama" made him quite nervous. It made him feel as though she was expecting the impossible of him, that she believed him to be someone that he was not and could never be.

And yet, he reflected, why should that bother him so much? It was not as if he had been afraid to not live up to what those other than his superior expected of him. He always felt that if they did not like him, that was their tough luck. He would not change for anyone.

"I don't think I can sleep," Ayumi answered now. It was always hard to sleep when she was not feeling well, though maybe if they could just stop, then she could.

"Well, try it anyway," Gin retorted as they finally exited the other parking garage and turned a corner.

With a sigh, Ayumi snuggled against Vodka's chest and tried to will herself to doze. The motion of the car did not make it easy, but she tried not to think of it. After a while everything blurred into a lovely sort of vague confusion as she fell into that bewildering state when one is not certain whether it is sleep or awareness that is present.

* * *

After several blocks of swerving madly in an attempt to get as far away from the pursuing car as possible, Gin finally parked around the side of an abandoned warehouse. In irritation he leaned back against the seat and looked to Vodka. "At least for right now, I think we've lost them," he decided, and narrowed his eyes. "But things can't go on like this. It's ridiculous!" 

Vodka nodded nervously. "Do you think they were after us, or the kid?" he wondered, and glanced down at Ayumi, who was now between them and moving closer to Gin, having laid her head on his lap. She looked as though she had fallen asleep at last, and the sight of the innocent child dozing on the lap of the cold-hearted assassin definitely gave him pause. When he saw Gin following his gaze, and his resulting expression of consternation, Vodka found it hard to stay serious.

"I don't know," the blonde growled then. "Maybe both. I think it was probably Ushio or one of the men he's hired. You know how he hates being lied to. I wonder who he wants to get at more right now, her or me." He reached for a cigarette, but then seemed to think differently when he recalled how it had bothered Ayumi. Instead he glanced at Vodka and was annoyed to see that his ally seemed to be trying not to snicker and failing. "What's the matter with you?" he snapped.

Vodka grinned mischievously. "I just think it's kinda funny, bro," he admitted. "You're just sitting here with that kid sleeping on your lap, and you're supposed to be a ruthless assassin, one of the Organization's best."

Gin grunted and reached into his coat, pulling out his gun and pointing it at Vodka. "Supposed to be?" he repeated darkly.

Vodka gulped. "I . . . I mean, you are, of course," he stammered, staring into the barrel of the weapon. He did not actually think that Gin would shoot him, but it still made him nervous, to have the gun pointed at him while Gin glared at him with green eyes of emerald ice. Vodka knew that the blonde's targets were always upset when they learned that Gin had been dispatched to take them out. He certainly could understand why. Gin was very intimidating.

Sometimes he wondered if Gin cared at all about him or if it would not mean anything to him if he, Vodka, was killed. Gin was hard to figure out most of the time. Vodka would think that he had made sense of his nonconformist comrade, and then the green-eyed man would turn around and surprise him again. Vodka did know that Gin's obsession over eliminating the traitor Sherry all stemmed back to the close relationship that they had once had, and which Gin had never gotten over. He still loved her and felt that he had been betrayed. Vodka sometimes worried over what the conclusion of their feud would be, as he often had the feeling that neither Sherry or Gin would come out of it alive. And he hoped that it would not happen any time soon.

Gin put the weapon away and looked back down at Ayumi. Now that things were calm again, he wondered why on earth he had done nothing when she had hugged him and laid on his lap while he was driving. That was quite dangerous, and he knew he would have never allowed it if he had fully, consciously realized. But he had been too involved with getting away from the convertible to take much notice, and Vodka had been busy watching the other car and shooting at it. They were lucky that they had not all been killed, or seriously injured. People such as he and Vodka took risks such as that nearly every day, but Gin did not want the child to have to.

She looked peaceful at the moment, as if she was lost in childlike dreams of innocence and playing games. He simply gazed at her for a while, immersed in his own thoughts of long ago.

She was not the first little girl to have looked up to and adored him so much. In his mind, he still saw and heard the serious redhead whom he had been raised with. He was older than her, and had always felt a need to protect her. It had made him angry when she had been picked on for being different. The very fact that she was different was what had made her interesting to him. He supposed that he had originally thought of her as a younger sister. But they were not blood-related by any means, and as she had grown older his feelings for her had changed.

But he did not want to think of that at the moment. As he watched the slumbering child, he was reminded of a time when the redhead was six and he, fourteen. It had been at the end of her first week in the first grade of elementary school, and she had already hated it. . . .

_He had come to get her when the school day had ended. He had waited by the gate, watching as all of the students came outside. She was among the last to leave, walking slowly as if either deep in thought or depressed, or both. He called to her and she looked up, an expression of relief coming over her sweet face when she caught sight of him. Immediately she ran to him, eager to be with someone who cared._

_"Another bad day?" he asked as they left the schoolgrounds._

_She nodded. Both of them were considered quiet people, and they did not always necessarily have long conversations with each other, either, but they were very close and enjoyed each other's presence._

_"Why is it that we're not liked here?" she asked at length, looking up at him with sad blue eyes. "We're not bad people, are we?"_

_He blinked slightly in surprise, though he had really been expecting her to ask something of the sort sooner or later. His expression darkened as he gave her the answer. "We're not bad people, Shiho," he answered. "They hate us because we aren't like them. We look different. We've learned different customs. We aren't interested in the same things they are. We'll always be outcasts to them." He brushed some of his long bangs out of his eyes. Even as a teenager, he had preferred wearing his hair long, though at that point it was only a few inches past his shoulders and he usually kept it tied back._

_She pouted, glaring at the sidewalk. "That isn't fair," she said softly. "We're still people, just like they are."_

_He looked ahead, seeing that they were coming to the crosswalk. "That's just the way it is," he answered flatly. "But we don't need them. Anyone who will dismiss you so easily without ever getting to know you isn't worth bothering about." They were speaking in Japanese now, as they always did outside of school. They preferred it that way, as their conversations could not be easily eavesdropped upon and understood._

_She was silent for a long moment as they crossed the street. "Then . . . I guess hardly anyone's worth bothering about," she remarked then, sidestepping a crack in the road. It had been there for months, and no one had ever shown any interest in fixing it. Now she had grown used to seeing it every weekday. It was an interruption in an otherwise smooth surface, but no one cared. Much, she thought to herself, how it was for herself and for him at their schools. They were there, but unnoticed and uncared about, nothing more than an irritation just like that crack._

_Or, she supposed, if she wanted to, she supposed that she could think of the unwelcoming people being the crack. The problem was, though, that she _did_ care about not being accepted, unlike everyone's reactions to the torn road. He seemed resigned to the fact that he never would be well-liked, but she was not. She was still younger, and at an age where she had not learned to accept it. She wanted to be liked by the other people in class and in the neighborhood._

_He grunted. "You catch on fast." But it made him angry that she had to learn about that. Her childhood was not normal, and he wondered if she was ever happy. Sometimes it annoyed him that they had both been brought here. He had lived in Japan for most of his early years, but a year before she had been left with him and the man who would be their mentor, they had relocated to America. He supposed that he had never actually fit in at either place; he was not a native of either America or Japan, and he was certain that he was often looked down on by people in both countries. But he had learned to deal with that and to not care what was thought of him. He lived his life the way he saw fit, and that was all that he cared about. But he had wanted her to have a better life than he had. That had been what her sister had wanted, too. She had discussed it with him when she had heard that Shiho was to be sent to America to live with him._

_"I wonder if we'd be happier in Japan," she said softly. "It sounds like it's such an awesome place. . . ."_

_He shrugged. "In some ways we might fit it better than here," he acknowledged, "but in other ways it would probably be the same, or worse."_

_She bit her lip. "Then . . . where do we belong?" she whispered, sounding and looking lost._

_"People like us . . . don't belong anywhere," he responded. Perhaps, he thought in retrospect, it was too depressing of a concept to have introduced her to at such an early age, but she had already been finding it out from others. If she had experienced the childhood that he and Akemi had wanted for her, then he would not be saying these words to her now. Instead, he would have let her enjoy childlike naivete for as long as it would have lasted._

_Now she stopped walking and just looked at him, trying to digest what he was telling her. He stopped as well and watched her, seeing the emotions going through her eyes---stunned shock, sadness, and then understanding and resignation. She knew it was true, even though she did not want it to be. But then something else seemed to occur to her, and a new determination shone in the blue orbs._

_Slowly, she moved forward and looked up at him, and in that gaze he did not see a six-year-old, but someone much older. "I don't think that's true," she said softly, and reached for his hand. He looked at her in surprise as she took hold of it. "People like us . . . belong together." A soft smile began to come over her face then, as if she realized that she had just resolved the dilemma and was happy with the conclusion she had arrived at. And, he imagined, she most likely was._

_He gave her a soft look, though he did not actually smile in return. Maybe, he thought, she was right._

Gin started out of his thoughts when Ayumi started to shift position. He focused on her then, realizing that he had been simply staring at her all that time without actually seeing her. He also became aware that sometime during the moments when he had been lost in the past, he had laid his hand on her head. Grunting to himself, he removed it and glanced at Vodka, figuring that he had probably gotten a kick out of that. But the other operative actually looked as though he was half-asleep, despite trying desperately to stay awake.

Gin leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. Going to sleep did not sound like a bad idea in the least, but he knew that it would not be safe for both of them to rest at the same time. Someone would need to stand guard. And since Vodka seemed to already be more than halfway in another world, Gin decided that it would be pointless to make him take the first watch.

He wondered what on earth they were going to do with the child. At the moment, without knowing who had been after them and why, it seemed too dangerous to do much of anything. And that highly irritated him. He did not like the way she unknowingly dragged him into reminisces of years gone by, times that would never exist again. He was no longer the teenager who had been with Shiho on that autumn day, and she was not the same little girl. They had grown up, and apart, for better or worse.

He was startled out of this new reverie by the abrupt ringing of Vodka's cellular phone, which also startled the heavyset man out of his doze. He fumbled for the device and opened it, mumbling something that passed for "Hello." Gin then glanced down at Ayumi, and found that she was still sleeping. He shook his head. She could sleep through almost anything, it seemed.

The telephone call did not last long. After a moment Vodka pulled the phone away from his ear and simply stared at it as if it had just grown horns. Gin looked over and noticed this, frowning. "What is it?" he demanded.

Vodka looked over at him grimly. "That was Ushio," he reported. "He says he knows we have the girl."


	5. More Disappearances

**Chapter Five**

Gin was highly irritated by Vodka's annoucement, though he had expected it. "And he called you to brag?" he growled. "Or maybe he thought the news would actually scare us?" Ushio was quite vain, and Gin had the feeling that the balding man believed himself to be a force to be reckoned with. Gin did not agree. He could easily and quickly kill Ushio, if it was not that he was supposed to stay alive.

"I think it was both," Vodka admitted, and sighed. "He said that you were going to have to pay for lying to him about the kid, and that he was gonna find out what you wanted with her in the first place . . . before killing you." He was certain that Gin could easily overpower the madman, if given a fair chance---but he doubted that Gin would be granted such a chance. People such as Ushio were never fair.

"Heh. He'll have to be prepared for a long wait, then," Gin answered. He did not say why, but the answer was two reasons. First, because he would never give Ushio anything that he wanted if it could possibly be helped. And secondly, he did not even know himself what he wanted with Ayumi. "Does he know where we are?" he asked now.

"He didn't seem to," Vodka admitted, "but he said he'd find us. Before I could really say anything, he hung up on me." Now he hesitated, which Gin quickly took note of.

"What else was said?" the blonde demanded, leaning on the steering wheel.

Vodka knew that it was pointless to try to keep it from him. "He said that before he kills you, he also wants to get you in trouble with the boss for 'not treating him with the courtesy he requires,'" he reported, and looked at his comrade worriedly. "Bro, he's nuts! I think he really could cause trouble for us if we keep the kid around. . . ."

Gin grunted. "It's obvious he's insane," he retorted. "Anyone could see that, including our superior. I thought long ago that it was time to unload Ushio as an informant. There's others who could tell us the same information, without indulging in such base practices as he does."

"Yeah . . . but would the boss agree?" Vodka asked nervously.

"I guess we'll find out. I'm not bending to Ushio's wishes." With that he reached down and picked up Ayumi, handing her to the bewildered Vodka. "You take her," he ordered as he revved the engine and began to back out of their current hiding place. He was not going to take the chance that Ushio did not know where they were. It was time to leave. Now if he could only figure out where they should go. . . .

Vodka simply gazed at the innocent child in confusion for a long moment, trying to determine exactly what he was supposed to do with her. At last he laid her on his lap and watched as she snuggled. The fact that she could be so at ease around two assassins amazed him. She had surely heard Ushio's remark that Gin had killed people, but either it had not fully registered in her young mind or else it did not matter to her because he had protected her.

He looked over at Gin again, seeing the blonde lighting a cigarette but keeping the window partially open so that the smoke would not stay in the car. He again hesitated before speaking. "Bro . . . do you care about the kid?" he asked then, knowing that he was taking a risk by doing so. "I mean . . . I know you don't want Ushio to get her, but is that just because you're defying him and you don't want him to get something he wants, or do you really want to keep her safe because . . . well, because you like her or something?"

Gin did not answer for a long time. Instead he glared ahead at the road, and Vodka wondered if he had even been heard. But then the blonde finally spoke. "Do you think I'm even capable of caring, or liking someone?" he retorted.

Vodka shrugged helplessly. "I know you said she reminded you of someone else," he said slowly, "but that doesn't necessarily mean that you really care. . . . You could just figure you've got some obligation to her . . . or maybe you don't even really see her when you look at her. . . . Maybe you see that someone else, instead. . . ."

Gin grunted. "Did anyone ever tell you that you should be a psychologist?" he muttered, steering onto the highway.

Vodka sighed and looked down, not certain whether that comment should be taken positively or negatively. "No, not really," he replied then, feeling somewhat embarrassed and realizing that he would probably not get an answer. Then again, he thought after a moment of reflection, maybe Gin could not answer him because he did not know the answer himself.

* * *

As Conan and Ai ran out the door to begin the search for Ayumi, they were met by a concerned neighbor who wondered what was wrong. When they explained, she immediately became alarmed, and looked as though she felt that she had done something incredibly dreadful.

"Oh!" she gasped sadly when they mentioned Ayumi's disappearance and the need to quickly find her. "Are you sure? I . . . I had thought he was a repairman, as he'd said! But he's really a heartless kidnapper? Oh! This is horrible. . . ." And she tightly gripped the railing of her porch until her knuckles turned white.

Conan frowned. "Yomada-san, are you saying that a man approached you and claimed to be a repairman for the Yoshidas?" he asked in concern.

The older woman nodded. "Yes, that's right," she replied. "I was gardening, and when I saw him looking confused, I asked if I could help. That's when he told me that he was the television repairman that the Yoshidas had sent for, and I directed him across the street!" She could not be consoled. "Oh, if anything happens to that sweet little girl because of me, I'll never forgive myself!" she wailed.

"You can help us, Yomada-san," Conan answered, "and Ayumi. What did this man look like?"

She gazed up into the sky as she tried to remember. "He was young," she said slowly. "Broadly built, and he had short blonde hair that almost looked white. He had on coveralls and a baseball cap, and glasses."

Ai wrote this down while Conan continued to speak with her. "Do you remember any distinctive characteristics he might have had?" he wanted to know. "A tattoo, a birthmark, or a limp of some kind?" He had gone into his full detective mode, but Mrs. Yomada was too worried over the state of things to pay much heed to the oddness of a six-year-old boy trying to solve a serious case. She knew that Conan was one of Ayumi's friends, and naturally he would want to collect whatever information he could to help her.

"He did have a tattoo," she mused now, "on the back of his right hand. I remember because he came over to the porch and put his hand on the railing while we talked. It was that symbol of a snake eating its own tail. Now what do they call that again?" she wondered with a frown.

"The Ouroborus," Ai supplied quietly, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh yes!" Mrs. Yomada nodded, and looked with concern to Conan. "Will that help at all?" she asked

Conan nodded. "It definitely will, Yomada-san," he answered. The next step would be to go through his father's books and files to search for any record of such a person. Surely the tattoo would help to narrow down the search. "There's just one more thing," he said now. "Did he give his name?" Of course, anything given would probably be an alias, but he could check up on that as well. His father had quite an extensive list of criminals' aliases, and who had used them.

Again she tried to think. "It almost seems like he did," she replied, and then her eyes brightened as it came to her. "Oh yes! He said he was Mr. Thomas Minekura," she reported.

Conan and Ai thanked her and quickly departed.

"We need to find out if my dad has any records about this guy," Conan said grimly to Ai after they passed the information on to the police. "He almost sounds familiar somehow, so I must have read about him in the files!"

"Maybe." Ai looked at him in concern as they ran down the street. "But Kudo . . . he sounded familiar to me, too."

Conan stopped running and turned to gaze at her in amazement. "He does?" he gasped. "Where would you know him from?" Then an alarming thought came to him. "You don't think he works for the Black Organization, do you?" he exclaimed.

Ai shook her head. "I can't be sure," she admitted, "but I don't think he does." Her eyes narrowed. "I don't understand where I would remember him from, though."

Conan grabbed her hand and pulled her down the street. "Well, let's hurry and get to my old home so that we can find some answers!" he exclaimed. "Meanwhile, I'll call Dr. Agasa and have him do a computer search." Ai did not protest, but she wondered if they were getting way in over their heads.

* * *

Genta and Mitsuhiko had been looking all over town for Ayumi. They had been to the Mouri Detective Agency, the business district, and to Ayumi's house---where they had learned of the break-in. Now, with renewed determination, they were continuing the search and trying to think of any other places that she might possibly have visited---provided that the criminal had not gotten hold of her.

"This is hopeless!" Genta cried in frustration after what seemed like ages. He placed his hands on his head in despair. It seemed that they would never find her!

"We can't stop looking!" Mitsuhiko declared. "Every problem has a solution, and we're going to find this one." Then he frowned suspiciously. "Does it seem to you that the car behind us has been following us for a while?" He glanced back at the Chevrolet as it moved along slowly and conspicuously, finally parking at the curb directly behind them.

Genta looked back as well. "Hey, actually I _have_ been seeing it for the last few blocks," he agreed. "What should we do?"

Before Mitsuhiko could answer, the door opened and a tall man with whitish-blonde hair stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Hello, boys," he said in a friendly enough tone, though his eyes were hard and cold. "I'm wondering if you can help me with something."

Instantly both were on their guards. "What do you want, sir?" Mitsuhiko asked.

The man came closer to them, and they could see that he was holding out a picture. "I was wondering if you've seen this girl? She's missing, and I've joined in the search to find her." As he arrived next to them, they stared in disbelief. He was holding a picture of Ayumi!

"Hey!" Genta cried. "Where did you get that picture? It looks just like the one that got taken from the Yoshidas' house." He frowned suspiciously.

"That's right!" Mitsuhiko added. "Are you the one who took it?"

The blonde's smile tightened. "Well, I see I'm not dealing with amateurs," he remarked. With his free hand, he drew a gun and pointed it at them. "I know you boys are friends of hers. Get in the car, now."

Genta swallowed. "What do we do now?" he asked in a low tone.

Mitsuhiko looked at him helplessly. "We have to try to get away!" he replied, knowing if they got in the car they might never escape.

"Oh, you'll never have the chance." Another man emerged from the passenger side of the vehicle, and though the boys looked around desperately for a way out, they were quickly surrounded and overpowered. Before they quite knew what was happening, they were gagged and bound in the back of the car---and on their way into a figurative lions' den.

The snippets of conversation that they caught from the front were not encouraging.

"Why did we grab these brats?" the second man growled in annoyance.

The first loudly sighed, as if annoyed by the question. "Because they realized that I must have been the one who broke into the Yoshidas' home," he replied. "Couldn't have them going back and telling the cops that. Ushio was suspicious from the first that Gin had lied to him, and when he saw that girl leaving her school a couple of days later, he confirmed it. He liked the kid, and wanted her, so he did some research, some stalking, and then had me break into the house to get her. She wasn't there, so I snatched the picture so I'd know her right off if I saw her. He mentioned those friends of hers, too."

There was a brief silence. "Don't you ever feel awful, working for a creep like that? You know what he does to kids like these."

"Kids are just brats anyway. I don't care what happens to them, as long as I get my monthly salary."

Genta and Mitsuhiko exchanged alarmed looks. They did not know where they were going, but it was obvious that these people were heartless. If they did not find a way to escape, there was no telling what would happen. But they did still have their detective badges, so they had to hope that Conan would be able to track them if they could not get away.

* * *

With Dr. Agasa's help, Conan and Ai managed to narrow the list of possible suspects to two---one whose name actually was Thomas, and another known only as the Cobra. There were not clear pictures for either of them, and both had the Ouroboros symbol as a tattoo.

"The Thomas one seems more likely," Ai remarked, looking up from the computer. "Cobra hasn't been seen in these parts for several years, but Thomas lives in a nearby subdivision."

"Let's check both of their criminal records," Conan directed.

Thomas seemed to have very few crimes to his name---and nothing serious. But on the Cobra's record, Ai was alarmed to see that the police believed that he worked for a man named Yusuke Ushio, but had never been able to prove it. Her eyes narrowed and she gripped the mouse tightly.

Conan looked over at her in concern. "What is it, Haibara?" he demanded.

Ai raised her gaze to meet his, and it was very serious and grim. "I remember this Ushio," she said darkly, pointing at his name on the screen. "He's an informant for the Black Organization. And Kudo, he's a very dangerous man---a pedophile." She stood up, angry with herself. "I don't know why I didn't make the connection before. I wouldn't be surprised at all if he's the one responsible for these recent murders and kidnappings. He could have been the man Ayumi saw!"

Conan immediately became alarmed as well. "So then our suspect may be the Cobra after all," he deduced, clenching a fist. "We shouldn't rule out Thomas yet, but this Ushio angle is something we should look into right now. If he's after Ayumi, she's in serious danger!" Then he thought of something else. "Haibara, what kind of relationships does he have with the Black Organization agents?"

Ai collected the material she had printed. "I only ever saw him interact with Gin, really," she admitted. "Gin hated him. He told me once that if it was up to him, he would have killed Ushio years ago. Then he mentioned that he'd killed someone like Ushio, once, but he didn't tell me any of the details."

Conan nodded slowly, somewhat surprised at this information. He knew that Ai had had some sort of relationship with Gin that she had never discussed with him, and he had respected her privacy on the matter, though he still wondered. And he was not certain why it amazed him so much that Gin would despise someone such as Ushio. Perhaps because Conan had assumed that Gin was completely cold-hearted and that he did not care what sort of wickedness went on around him.

At that moment Dr. Agasa came back into the room with several more files. "I found some more possibilities," he announced, and then noticed Conan's and Ai's grim expressions. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Did you learn something?"

Quickly they informed them of what they had learned and realized, and he became deeply alarmed. "Do the police know about this?" he said in concern, knowing that this was a very dangerous matter---even more so if their suspicions were true about Ushio's involvement..

"We gave them Yomada-san's description of the repairman, and they would probably match it with the Cobra, eventually," Ai said slowly. "But we should make sure that they know right now. We need to have every available person looking for Ayumi. If that man gets hold of her, I don't even want to think about what will happen to her." She wondered why she had to find herself silently musing over if Gin would still feel the same way about Ushio now. He had changed so much over the years that she knew it was possible that Ushio's actions did not even bother him now.

Conan nodded. "I'll call them right now," he said, and was about to do this when Dr. Agasa realized something else.

"Where are Genta and Mitsuhiko?" he asked. "Do they know what happened to Ayumi?"

Ai frowned. "I haven't seen them since school was out," she mused slowly.

Conan frowned too. "That's bad. I wonder where they are." Deciding that he should find out, he tried to track them via their badges, hoping that they were currently in possession of the devices. After his attempt, he blinked in confusion. "They seem to be moving down a highway," he exclaimed, watching them on the radar screen in his glasses.

"They're in a car?" Ai thought that sounded strange. "We should try to find them. They might be in trouble, too."

"We can call the police on the way!" Conan declared, running for the door. "Come on, Dr. Agasa!" He could hear the others running behind him as he reached the outside and the yellow Volkswagen Beetle. He only hoped that they would not be too late to rescue the others. But that could not happen. He would make sure that all of them were safe and out of the clutches of the horrid Yusuke Ushio.

* * *

_He had not been in Japan for over ten years, but when he returned, things did not seem greatly different. There were more buildings, more traffic, and more technology, but the overall feel of the land had not changed. The people were still largely the same, and so was the Organization, which had been operating in secret all over the world for he did not know how many years. He did not care, either. All that he cared about was the here and now, and what he was there to accomplish._

_Akemi was saddened to learn of his return. She knew what it meant, and she had seen so many good young men changed into heartless assassins due to the Organization's wicked training methods. She did not want to see that happen to him. She thought of him as a brother._

_She went to see him the first night he was back. She was only two years younger than him, and during the time when he had lived in Japan as a child, she had been with him often. It was strange, she thought, that when he went to America he had looked after her sister. Or maybe not so strange. Perhaps the higher-ups had wanted them raised together, for some reason. She wondered what that reason would be, and decided that it could not have been a good one._

_When he had opened the door of his quarters, she was amazed to see how much he had physically changed. No longer the scrawny, mischievous child who had gotten her into more than a few sticky situations, he was tall and handsome, his green eyes bespeaking the bitterness he held toward much of life. His shaggy blonde bangs obscured those piercing eyes for the most part, but she could still see them gleaming through, like sharp and deadly emeralds. She stood gazing at him for a long moment before she moved forward and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him close to her. "I wish you weren't back," she whispered, and he knew what she meant._

_He let her embrace him for a moment before he took hold of her arms and moved them away, stepping back to study her. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted it so that she was looking into those dark, endless eyes. "I'm here to do what's expected of me," he answered quietly, and from the tone of his voice she knew that he hated it as much as she did._

_She brushed the bangs away from his eyes. "Oh, when have you ever done what was expected of you," she murmured, a wry smile gracing her lips. She was only partially teasing, remembering how he had used to defy the rules and regulations all the time. He had been quite a troublemaker as a boy._

___He grunted and half-turned, walking back into the room and silently inviting her to stay if she wished. His long hair, trailing all the way down his back, swished behind him. "You haven't changed much," he remarked then, glancing back. He did not want to talk about why he was here. He had already thought about it on the entire flight from America. Right now he wanted to forget, even though he knew that would be impossible._

___She laughed softly, gathering the ends of his hair in her hands. "You haven't, either," she remarked. "You're still defying the rules. Look at this hair!" She shook it gently and then let it go, moving to face him again. "How's Shiho?" she asked now. She had not seen her sister in person for so many years. They had exchanged letters, and they called each other as often as they could, and that was certainly better than nothing, but she still longed to be able to actually see her sister, to hold her, to talk to her, to watch her grow up. She could only hope that Shiho was being able to have a better existence than she would if she were here._

___"She's alright," he answered. "As alright as she can be, I guess. She didn't want me to leave either."_

___"Well, of course she wouldn't. She knows you'll be gone for two years, at least." She frowned, watching him. "But she doesn't know what's going to happen to you, does she?" She had wanted so much for Shiho to be able to have a childhood for as long as possible, and to not know of the cruelties of the Organization that they were bound to work for, but she did not know if that was possible. She had probably seen and heard much from the agents who were stationed in America. She knew that his and Shiho's guardian had often met with other operatives at his house._

___"I think she understands more than she lets on," he said truthfully. "But I'm not going to change."_

___She sighed. "You don't know what this place does to a person," she commented quietly. "But so many guys come here . . . good people, like you . . . and they change in ways you wouldn't believe. They end up not caring about humanity at all, and being more than willing to serve the Organization. I think most of them operate on auto-pilot now. They've lost their souls." She looked away, brushing aside the tears that had gathered. "I've seen it too much . . . and I can't bear to see it happen to you, too. You have a beautiful soul."_

___"I don't want to talk about it," was the flat reply._

___"It has to be talked about!" she cried, her voice raising as she looked back to him. "They're going to be training you to murder people! They're going to squeeze every bit of mercy and human kindness out of you until you're nothing but what they want you to be---a killing machine!"_

___"Don't you think I haven't thought about that?" he snapped in reply. "Every day I've thought about that, since I was given my codename five years ago! I know what I'm being groomed to be. I know how they expect me to end up." He gripped her shoulders, looking into her eyes. "It's as I've been saying for years---people like us don't belong anywhere. We only exist to be players in the Organization's games. You know it's true. But that doesn't mean that we have to become everything they want us to be! You're still you, even after everything you've seen. And I'm still me."_

___She looked up at him, blinking away the second round of tears. "I've changed more than you probably realize," she said quietly. "Even if you don't want it to, even if you work against it, it changes you. And . . . I . . . I just feel so numb inside! All I can hope is that Shiho never has to come to this. . . ." She looked away. Even if they could get out of the Organization now, she knew that she would never be the same. She tried to put on a brave front for him and for Shiho, but that was not her true self. She was depressed, she was lonely, and she was afraid. Sometimes she just wanted it to all be over, but she knew that she had to keep living---if for no other reason, then because of Shiho. And that was the most important reason, to her._

___"She's a brilliant student," he answered matter-of-factly. "When she graduates, they're going to want her."_

___She glowered at him. "Don't say that!" she snapped, even though she knew it was true. Sighing softly, she looked up at him again, and now her expression was filled with regret and sorrow. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to get angry with you. It's not your fault. . . . I just feel so helpless. . . ."_

___"I know. But you have to get used to it. We are helpless, against them." He looked down at her again with those eyes of dark emerald._

___She looked away. "There has to be a way," she whispered. "And I'm going to find it!"_

Gin took a draw on his cigarette and then hung his arm partway out the window as he steered the car off the highway. Had that truly been only eight years ago? As far as he was concerned, it was another lifetime. He had vowed, to himself and to others, that he would not be corrupted by the Organization. But it had been a futile battle. Being forced so often to kill people had caused the corruption to come upon him, just as Akemi had said.

He had tried different methods to distance himself from it. Thinking of the targets as traitors, which was something he already loathed, helped somewhat. And most of them were, indeed, traitors. But he had become desensitized, not actually thinking any more about what he was doing. He had to admit, he had come to relish it. He liked the thrill of the hunt, he liked the power of having the gun and of letting the traitors know that their actions would not be stood for, and he liked seeing the alarm and fear in their eyes as they realized that they had gotten in too deep. And yet he knew that in the end, he did not have as much power as he wished he did. He was still at the mercy of his superiors.

Bah! He had been reminiscing again! That child actually looked like Akemi, when she had been Ayumi's age. But Gin saw some of both sisters in her personality and determination. Nevermind, though. He did not want to think any more about it at the moment.

He glanced over at Vodka and the girl, and it was his turn to be somewhat amused when he saw how uncomfortable Vodka looked. At least Gin had looked after kids before, even though it was years ago. But Vodka never had. He was at a complete loss now, and he was shy around most women anyway. Gin wondered if that extended to the child. He thought he could sense that it did, somewhat.

Ayumi stirred now, finally starting to awaken. She looked around, blinking as she tried to fully come back to the present. She had been having a nice dream, where she had been happily playing without any need to worry that Ushio would come and hurt her and her friends. But now, she was remembering that the danger was still very real. "Vodka-san," she mumbled sleepily, realizing that she was no longer on Gin's lap. Slowly she sat up, looking over at the blonde.

"Gin-sama, can I ask you something?" she said now in her sweet voice.

He grunted, concentrating on the road. "What is it?" he asked, placing the cigarette back in his mouth.

She bit her lip. "That awful man said you've killed people," she remarked softly, and Vodka looked at her in shock. "Is that true?"

"What if it is?" Gin retorted, not seeming surprised.

She sighed softly. "Well . . . it isn't right to kill," she objected, leaning slightly against Vodka. He wondered how Gin planned to handle this.

"I have my reasons," Gin answered shortly. Apparently he planned to do very little.

Vodka could no longer resist the urge to say something. "If you know that about him, why do you trust him and call him 'Gin-sama'?" he wanted to know.

Ayumi did not take much time to think about it. "Because I don't think he's a bad person," she smiled then, "and I don't think you are, either, Vodka-san. You do bad things, but you're still both good inside."

Gin threw the cigarette butt out the window. "That's a nice fantasy for you," he remarked. "Too bad it doesn't have some truth to it."

Ayumi pouted and looked up at Vodka. "You don't think he's a bad person, do you, Vodka-san?" she asked innocently.

Vodka stared at her, at a loss for words. He stammered hopelessly, but was saved from trying to reply further when Gin snapped on the radio and a news bulletin was coming through. However, the bulletin only made things all the more uncomfortable for them.

"Police are continuing the search for seven-year-old Ayumi Yoshida, who disappeared from her home earlier today. She is described as having black hair, blue eyes, and was wearing pink overalls with a white T-shirt when she was last seen. If you have any information on her whereabouts, please contact the police at . . ."

Gin snapped off the radio, cursing. Ayumi looked at the radio and then up at him. "Do they think that something happened to me?" she wondered.

"They probably think you were kidnapped!" he growled. "They might even be stopping any suspicious-looking cars." And this certainly complicated matters. He had not been certain what to do with her before, and he was even less certain now. He did not want to do something that would end up jeopardizing himself and Vodka. If they were not careful, they could end up arrested---and for something they had not even done.

"But I'd tell them you were trying to help me!" Ayumi protested, and began to worry again. Her friends were probably all looking for her, thinking that some horrible thing had happened. She wanted to go home to them, but she did not want to get Gin and Vodka into trouble.

Vodka looked at Gin anxiously. "What are we going to do, bro?" he asked hesitantly.

Gin grumbled, turning a corner. "Who knows," he muttered. Then something caught his eye up ahead. It was the convertible! He narrowed his eyes. The driver had apparently not seen them, at least yet, and the street they were on now were dark and ill-lighted. Gin smirked faintly, and Vodka could see that familiar gleam in his eye. The blonde wanted to know what was going on, and he was determined to find out. He would be careful, since they had the girl with them. But they might be able to quell at least one problem if this went right.

Silently he began to follow the convertible. "Keep the girl down," he ordered.

Ayumi frowned at him. "My name is Ayumi," she declared, and ducked down on her own.

Gin did not reply.


	6. Inferno

**Chapter Six**

By the time the convertible finally stopped in front of an old and apparently abandoned mansion, Genta and Mitsuhiko felt as though they had been riding for hours. But now that it seemed their journey was at an end, they dreaded what would happen next. They wondered if they dared to try to run away once they were pulled out of the car.

Even if they would have decided to attempt it, they would not have been able to go through with it. As the doors were opened, each was pulled out by one of the men and held tightly as they went up the walk to the house. The boys kicked and struggled, yelling through the gags, but it was not any use. They could not get free. And their panic only increased, remembering the ominous things that the two men had been saying about their boss. What sort of horrible mess had they gotten into now? Would Conan be able to find them in time?

When they reached the porch, a tall, balding man was standing in the open doorway, watching his employees. His eyes glinted when he saw the boys. "Ah, Ayumi's friends," he purred, stepping aside to allow the newcomers to enter. "Welcome, boys."

The two lackeys unceremoniously dumped the children onto the carpet. "We still haven't found the girl, boss," the blonde one said flatly, "but these two figured out that I broke into her house, so I thought it'd be better to grab them for now."

The balding man frowned at their actions and shook his head. "Really, there's no need to be rough on them," he said, bending down to remove their gags. "Of course, you both realize you can't ever leave." He looked into Genta's and Mitsuhiko's eyes and they shrank back, alarmed at the wickedness they saw there.

"Oh yeah?" Genta cried now, in spite of his fear. "Just you wait! They'll realize we're missing, just like Ayumi-chan is, and they'll come looking for us, too!" He smirked, thinking of how shocked this man would be when Conan arrived. _If_ Conan arrived. . . . But of course he would! He would be able to track them. He was probably on his way right now!

"That's right!" Mitsuhiko chimed in. "We're famous detectives! They'll wonder where we are!"

The wicked man grinned, amused. "Detectives, eh?" he said as he straightened up. "How cute."

He looked back to his lackeys, and they stepped back, apparently nervous that he would be angry with them for not finding Ayumi. But then he laughed. It was a cruel, cold sound. "Don't worry about the girl," he grinned. "We'll be getting her soon, and more importantly, the man who lied to me to keep her safe." He started to walk off, presumeably to make further plans for that ill-fated meeting. "Ah, how I will enjoy watching him suffer and die." He glanced back to his minions. "Do show our guests to their room, won't you?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued up the stairs and went into one of the rooms.

Genta and Mitsuhiko exchanged confused looks over the man's words. "What man?" Genta exclaimed as they were prodded along into a first-floor bedroom. "Who's going to die?"

"That's nothing you need to concern yourselves with," the blonde answered, slamming the door shut and locking it.

Mitsuhiko glared at it. "There has to be a way out of here!" he said in frustration.

"It's no use," Genta grumbled, straining against the ropes for the umpteenth time. "We're stranded until Conan finds us!" He plopped on the floor in resignation. "And where could Ayumi be?"

"Wherever she is, it has to be better than here," Mitsuhiko said quietly. He did not know what was wrong with the man whose hideout they were now in, but in his presence the boy had felt a darkness that he had never felt before, from anyone. More than anything, he wanted to be able to get away. And he did not want Ayumi to ever have to come here, either.

* * *

Gin was not pleased as he observed the two men dragging the children up to the porch and inside the house. Apparently Ushio had sent his men to collect more victims. He wondered who had been murdered this time. 

Upon hearing a soft gasp to his side, he turned to see Ayumi peeking out of the window while trying to stay unseen at the same time. "That's Genta-kun and Mitsuhiko-kun!" she cried before he could scold her.

Vodka stared. "You know them?" he burst out, getting a sinking feeling. There was not any end to this!

Ayumi nodded firmly. "They're two of my best friends!" she said. She could not see the man waiting for them on the porch, but as they went inside, she felt certain that it was the horrible man from the park. She gripped the inside of the door tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Gin growled, lighting a new cigarette. "What would Ushio be doing with them?" he muttered. "Is he trying to lure us out?" This disaster was growing more vexing by the moment. And of course Ayumi would never rest until her friends were rescued. But even though Gin hated what Ushio did, he did not consider himself some sort of champion of justice. That was something he would never be, and he felt, never could be. Still, he knew that he had to deal with all of the consequences of his actions from two weeks ago. And he had the feeling that Ushio was indeed trying to lure them to him. Of course, on the other hand, Gin could have overestimated him and he had just wanted some more "company", and that had been the reason for taking the boys, whether he had known about their connection to Ayumi or not.

Vodka frowned. "Would he think we'd come?"

Gin shrugged. "He might think we've gone soft," he grumbled. "Or maybe he'd just figure that we'd come because it's unfinished business."

Ayumi looked back to them. "We can't leave them with that awful man!" she cried in alarm. "Gin-sama, we have to go help them!"

Gin narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn't call me that," he said then, gazing at the house where the boys had been taken. "I'm not worthy of that kind of admiration." He leaned on the steering wheel now, trying to determine exactly what they should do. If Ushio was trying to lure them there, it was most definitely a trap of some kind. Gin did not know if there were more men inside other than the two who had abducted the boys, plus Ushio himself, but he did know that Ushio had an over-exaggerated opinion of himself. Gin felt certain that it would be Ushio's downfall.

Ayumi blinked at him. In determination she got down from Vodka's lap and went over to Gin, climbing up on the seat next to him. "I think you are," she replied sweetly, and embraced him. He simply stared at her in disbelief, as did Vodka. It seemed that she was always leaving them at a loss for words. "It doesn't matter to me what kinds of awful things you've done," she said now. "If you really aren't good at all, you wouldn't have helped me." To her, it was as simple as that.

Gin continued to gaze at her, not speaking. He was certain that she would not feel that way if she actually did know exactly what he had done during his years with the Organization, but he would not taint her innocence by telling her. He looked away, and Vodka wondered if he had actually seen a semblance of a soft expression come over his features.

But then the phone rang again and he did not have time to think about it further. Quickly he pulled out the communication device and opened it, getting a bad foreboding as he did so. "Hello?" he said into it, and Gin and Ayumi both glanced over, wondering the same thing.

Vodka was not pleased to hear Ushio's voice once more, but he was also not surprised. "What do you want now?" he snapped, growing as visibly angry with him as Gin always did. He had been causing trouble for them all day, and Vodka would be gratified if he never had to see or hear from the monster again.

"Now, now, you're getting as tense as your friend," Ushio retorted, and Vodka knew he was smirking. "I just wanted to call and talk to you about certain things."

Before Vodka could reply, Gin had reached over and taken the phone from him. "Stop playing games!" the blonde snapped furiously. "I'm sick of it. We already know you've taken the girl's friends. What are you planning to do with them? Did you just get bored and decide you needed more "company"? Or are you trying to see how far you can push me?"

Ushio laughed. "Really, I didn't know it disturbed you so much," he replied smoothly. "It isn't your business anyway. It was never your business, but you made it so, and now you have to pick up the pieces." Gin heard a pop in the background that was probably the cork being removed from a champagne bottle. "I want to have a chat with you, and Vodka, and the child. And if you don't come, you can be sure that what will happen to the boys won't be pleasant . . . for them."

Gin cursed him. "Do you think we'd bring the girl in there?" he demanded.

"Yes, I do, actually," Ushio smiled, "because you wouldn't dare leave her in the car, where my men could easily find her. She would be safer with you at the moment, even if you're coming into my web." He laughed again and then there was a pause, as if he was drinking some of the liquor. "And you can't take the chance that I'm bluffing, can you? You say you already know I've got the boys, though I must admit, I am surprised by that. I was calling just now to tell you."

Gin grunted. "Your idea of a 'chat' is going to end up with somebody being killed, but it won't be me," he said coldly. "You've dug your own grave." Without waiting for a reply, he hung up and gave the phone back to Vodka.

The heavyset man could tell that Gin was fuming. "What are you going to do, bro?" he asked, though he already had an idea of what Gin had in mind.

Gin took off the seatbelt and opened the door. "We're going inside," he replied, "and I don't think Ushio will be coming back out." He looked to Ayumi. "I hate to admit that he's right about anything, but you can't stay here. You'll have to come with us, but don't wander away from us under any circumstances. Is that clear?" As he spoke, he drew out his gun and made certain that the magazine clip was fully filled.

She bit her lip, looking worriedly at the gun, but then swallowed hard and nodded in determination. "Okay, Gin-sama," she agreed, as Vodka got out of the car as well. She had to admit, she was a bit afraid to go in, especially when she realized that someone might die. But she wanted to help Genta and Mitsuhiko, and that feeling was stronger than her fear. And she trusted Gin. He would not cause her to have to witness any terrible scenes of violence and bloodshed, if he could at all help it.

* * *

It was not long before Conan, Ai, and Dr. Agasa managed to track the boys to where they were. They were approaching the house from the other side, so none of them saw the black Porsche at first. The convertible blocked the view, from their current position. But the house, in all of its ominous majesty, towered very plainly in their lines of vision. It was old, and had once been beautiful, but had since fallen into disrepair. It contained three floors, and on one side it had a large turret that was badly in need of painting. Shingles were falling off the roof, and long piece of wood dangled in front of the porch. It would not look inhabited, save for the fact that several lights were on inside. 

Almost before Dr. Agasa had stopped the car, Conan was ready to fly out of it. Just before he could, the professor spoke up. A worry had been weighing on his mind since they had started out, and now that they were here, he knew it needed to be mentioned.

"Remember, Shinichi, you and Haibara look like children," he said grimly as he turned off the engine. "If you're not careful, this Ushio person might try to get the both of you, too." He opened the car door and got out, looking at the house darkly. "It would probably be better to wait for the police. . . ."

"By then it might be too late," Ai answered as she and Conan exited the vehicle as well.

"We'll be careful!" Conan said as he hurried up the sidewalk. As he passed the convertible, he stopped short and simply stared, his eyes widening. It could not be . . . but it was! It was the black Porsche . . . Gin's car. The Black Organization was here.

"What's the matter?" Ai demanded as she caught up with him. But then she saw the car too. Her eyes widened in horror. Why would Gin be here? Had he had anything to do with what had happened to the others? Could she be wrong and his feelings about Ushio's actions had changed, as she wondered? Everything else had changed, so it would not be such a stretch. And on the other hand, perhaps he was merely there to speak with him about something. In any case, she knew that they would have to go inside anyway. But the fear she held over meeting him again, right now, was strong. He would kill everyone connected with her. She was certain of it! And though she tried to force herself to move, she felt frozen to the spot.

"Haibara!"

Slowly she became aware of Conan calling to her. She looked to him, seeing the concern in his own eyes. But there was also determination. "We have to go in there," he told her, and she knew he was right. "We'll stay hidden from Gin." He gripped her shoulders. "The others are in danger right now, if not from Gin, from someone else---this Ushio, if he's here."

She swallowed hard. "I know," she said quietly.

"Let's try around the back," Conan suggested, hurrying through the yard and trying to stay hidden from anyone who might be at the windows. Ai and Dr. Agasa followed cautiously, hoping that the police would arrive before long.

"Do you smell smoke?" Ai asked suddenly as they arrived at the back and found a broken window.

Conan's expression registered alarm. "The house is on fire!" he cried, climbing in through the open space. Now his mission had become all the more complicated. He had to find the others and get them out, before there was not any way left to escape!

* * *

_After he had been in training for a little over a year, he was introduced to the man who would be his partner in the Organization. He was not told anything about the other operative before their meeting, except that the man's codename was Vodka and that he was a lower-level agent. Over the past year, Gin had worked his way up in the ranks, and he had become one of the Organization's most valuable assassins. He wanted to be controlled by as few people as possible._

_He lit a cigarette as he entered the room. He had never smoked before returning to Japan, but when his training had gotten underway, he had started after the first couple of murders. It had began as a way of coping, of calming himself, and by now it was a habit. He was addicted to the blasted things._

_He glanced around the room, and after finding only one other person in it, walked over to him. "Are you Vodka?" he asked, looking him up and down. The other man was shorter than him, and slightly heavyset. He was wearing a business suit and a fedora, and his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. As Gin approached and spoke, he thought that he caught a hint of discomfort in his soon-to-be comrade's expression. But then it was gone, replaced by---to Gin's surprise---recognition._

_"Y-yeah," he stammered, and Gin instantly had the feeling that Vodka was not at ease around other people. After a moment Vodka fully remembered that Gin outranked him and added, "Bro." It was a term of respect that the lower-level members used toward their higher-level allies._

_Now it was Vodka's turn to stare at Gin. "We met once before," he said slowly, shifting as he took in Gin's cold expression. He wondered if the blonde could even see behind all the hair that was flopping into his face. At this point, Vodka could not see his eyes at all._

_Gin took a draw on his cigarette. "Oh?" he replied, raising an eyebrow. At least, Vodka _thought_ he did. It was hard to tell. "Where was that? I don't remember."_

_"It was a few years ago," Vodka replied nervously. "Well . . . it was over ten years ago, I guess, when you were in Japan before. You'd gotten in trouble with the Miyano girl, by going somewhere on the base where you weren't supposed to, and I talked to you for a while when they were trying to figure out what to do with you." Gin had always had a reputation as a nonconformist, and Vodka had the feeling that he was still that way---probably moreso, he decided, eyeing Gin's black coat and baggy turtleneck shirt, and the amazingly long hair._

_Gin grunted. "I'm bad with faces," he admitted, "if I only see the person for a short while." And that was fine with him. It made it easier to kill. He would not have to see the victims over and over in his mind. They all faded into a blur._

_Now he studied Vodka more closely, and part of an emerald eye came into view. "I don't think I'd remember you anyway," he said frankly. "You probably weren't wearing those before." He indicated the sunglasses._

_"Well, no," Vodka admitted. He was not certain at all if they were going to get along. He was not good with people, as Gin had surmised, and the blonde was very intimidating. He half wanted to ask if Gin really felt comfortable with his hair that long, but he did not dare._

_Gin shrugged. "Do whatever you want," he said, half-turning away. "I don't care. We're going to be together for a long time, so we'll have to get used to each other's quirks." In the Organization, once two people were partners, they remained so unless one or the other turned traitor or became deceased. The mysterious leader seemed to feel that once two agents had developed a rapport, that should not be disturbed because they would be able to do their best work together._

_Vodka nodded slowly. "Right . . . bro," and followed after Gin when the blonde nodded in approval and started to walk away._

_Thus began their odd and confusing relationship. Vodka often felt, years later, that he did not know that much more about Gin now than he had then. And Gin . . . well, Vodka still was not sure if Gin cared about him at all. Vodka did not know if he would call the blonde a friend, but he had gotten used to Gin being around, and he found it nigh to impossible to ever imagine working with someone else. Though, he was certain that he would not have to. Gin would never turn traitor, since he despised them so much. His loyalty was to the Organization. And Vodka could not imagine the blonde dying any time soon, either._

_Gin honestly could not say how he felt about Vodka. He was used to him as well, but he did not believe himself capable of caring about anyone---not anymore. If he were asked if he still loved Shiho, he would deny it. And yet Vodka could see that it was true. If Gin cared about Vodka, he was denying that, as well._

Gin glared at the candles that lighted up certain portions of the house. Most of them were uncovered, and could easily start a fire if one was careless. They also cast eerie shadows throughout the rooms, which Gin could care less about. But Ayumi definitely felt anxious, and she clung to the green-eyed man's coat with her small hands as they were led up first one flight of stairs, then the other, to the third floor. Vodka followed, equally on edge, making sure to keep his gun drawn.

When they reached the top, the two lackeys indicated that they would have to walk down a long hall. Gin could hear the floor groaning as they trailed over it, and he wondered how long it would hold together. Then he looked up as they reached their destination---a room about halfway down the hall. "The boss is in here," the more quiet of the two announced.

Vodka wondered if Gin found it as ironic as he did that the two minions paralleled them in several ways. The blonde one was taller and seemed to be the leader, while the other was shorter and generally seemed to just follow the other's instructions.

Gin grunted, moving to open the door. As he turned the knob, Vodka was suddenly held back from going with him.

"We want to talk with you," the blonde with the tattoo announced with a smirk. "The boss just wants to see Gin and the kid."

Vodka glowered, as did Gin. "What do you want to talk to me about?" he said defensively.

"Oh, just things," was the answer, as Vodka's counterpart toyed with his gun.

Gin growled. "He'll kill you both," he snapped, not pleased with this arrangement. But no matter. He would have Ushio taken care of before long and then they would leave. He swept into the room, Ayumi still gripping at his coat, and the door was slammed behind them. To Gin's further annoyance, he heard a lock click.

Ushio was sitting on the edge of an old desk in the room that had definitely seen better days. "Welcome, welcome," he sneered. "I knew you'd come, though I wasn't expecting you so soon." He glanced to Ayumi. "Hello, my dear. Remember me?" His eyes glinted, and she hid behind Gin in terror.

"Leave her alone," Gin said coldly, pointing his gun at Ushio's head. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't spill your blood right now."

"That's simple," Ushio smiled. "You don't want the girl to see such a sight." He pushed himself off the furniture and to the floor. "You've been looking after her so well, after all. I never would have thought it. You lied to me and didn't kill her." His smile widened. "And what did you do with her instead? Did you just let her go, or did you . . . have some fun with her first? Are you sure we're all that different?"

Gin's eyes flashed with outrage and he gripped the gun so firmly that his knuckles went white. He would not even dignify that with a response. Ushio knew that Gin was not a child molester. He was only trying to make the assassin furious, but Gin had been trained to not give in to his anger. Even so, it took all of his mental strength to not pull the trigger . . . yet. "I don't have time for this," he said at last when he had himself under control. "I said for you to stop playing your games. Get on with why you called me here."

"Really, now. This is my house, Gin." Ushio leaned back on the desk. "You can't expect me to do everything you say. But . . . if you want to get down to business, let's!" Abruptly he raised his hand, and in it was clenched a pistol. Without warning he fired, and Gin barely managed to dive out of the way. The bullet instead hit a nearby candle and sent it spiraling to the floor. Immediately flames ignited, catching on the wooden planks and on the threadbare rug.

Gin cursed to himself as he heard the taunting, crackling sound of the flames, followed by Ayumi screaming. His eyes widening, he turned back around to see Ushio clutching the innocent child close to him, apparently using her as his shield against being shot---or burned. Hatred flashed in Gin's eyes, and memories crashed and mingled with the present as the wicked man began to laugh.

_"Let me go! Let me GO!" she screamed as she was dragged across the floor by one of the servants. But no matter how she struggled and fought against him, her eight-year-old body was not a match for the strong and heavily-muscled frame of the man who had set his mind on having his way with her._

_He heard her cries from outside and had not wasted any time getting back into the house. When he found them in the otherwise deserted hall, he did not stop to think. He ran forward, drawing his pocketknife and slicing into his enemy's arm. She had been able to wriggle free then, and she had watched in horror as the others had tumbled to the floor, wrestling desperately and each trying to get the upper hand._

_The knife in his hand was twisted, and the servant tried to cause it to plunge into Gin's throat. But abruptly Gin kicked out, sending the other falling back. Before he had time to recover, Gin was upon him again, and drove the weapon into his heart. His eyes were smouldering. He would not stand for Shiho to be violated in any way. That had been the first time he had killed, and he had never regretted it. As far as he was concerned, that man had deserved death._

_Soft crying broke through the wall of rage he had built. As he slowly got up, Shiho ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist as she sobbed. Her tears were out of fear, for what she had gone through, and because she knew that she could have lost Gin then. He held her close, his long bangs falling over his eyes and concealing the emotions of loathing and fury that still boiled in his soul._

_She had never known exactly what that man was going to do to her, even though she had realized it would not be pleasant, and in later years she seemed to have blocked all memories of the incident from her mind. And that was fine with him. It was not something that she should have to remember. He would never tell her._

Weeping came again in the present, as Ayumi fought in vain against Ushio's viselike grip. He sneered at Gin as the flames in the room leaped higher, closing in on them. "You're helpless to do anything," he taunted. "The girl is mine!" He started to drag her back toward the window, intending to jump outside. Gin would be left inside to suffer and die from the flames. Ushio fired at him again, and grinned wickedly when the bullet dug into the blonde's shoulder. Ayumi screamed.

Gin growled in pain, clapping his hand over the wound. He had been shot in the left shoulder, but he would not let that stop him. Fighting the burning pain, he raised his gun in his left hand, his eyes hard and cold. "These flames are appropriate," he hissed. "Go to Hell, where you belong." He squeezed the trigger, and Ushio was killed instantly by a bullet to his head. His body fell back, disappearing into the flames, and Ayumi tore free of his grasp, running to Gin and hugging him as the tears continued to spill from her innocent blue eyes.

Gin laid a hand slowly on her head as he looked around the room for an escape route. The flames were everywhere, eating through the age-old walls and floor and ceiling of the abode. The door was locked, and it would be impossible to go through it anyway. He would never make it alive. The way it looked, the window was the same way. The fire had encircled it, climbing all the way up. He cursed, wondering if there was a secret exit out of the room, and struggled to shield Ayumi with his coat as the flames drew closer.

He never had time to figure out what to do next. The floor, weakened by years of disrepair and a leaking roof, gave way from the hungry flames. Ayumi shrieked as they crashed downward, and Gin could only hold onto her. Then they slammed onto the next floor down, and before Gin could get his bearings enough to struggle up, something hard struck him over the head and everything went dark.


	7. Escape

**Chapter Seven**

In the meantime, Genta and Mitsuhiko were trying desperately to free themselves from their prison. A thorough search of the room produced several sharp objects, which they tried to use to saw through the ropes, but they only succeeded in cutting themselves several times. Finally they had to give up in despair.

"What do we do now?" Genta cried. "We're not going to be able to get out of here!"

"Let's think about it!" Mitsuhiko declared, trying to stay practical and calm. "This is an old house. Maybe the door isn't very strong. We should try to break it down!" Without waiting for a reply, he ran over to the door, grateful that at least his legs were not tied, and rammed into the wood. It creaked in reply, but did not appear as though it would give way, and Mitsuhiko looked back to Genta. "Come on!"

The heavyset boy hurried over as well, and the two of them struggled with all their might to get the door to break apart, but it was not any use. After five minutes of useless attempts, they finally had to concede defeat.

"We're never going to get out of here!" Genta bemoaned, sliding down the door to the floor.

"Well, we sure won't, if we don't think positively!" Mitsuhiko retorted, and began to pace. Another idea came to him. "Maybe there's secret panels and stuff!"

Genta was still dejected. "Yeah, but you have to touch levers and stuff, and our hands aren't free to do that!" He watched Mitsuhiko move around the room, trying anyway, and finally he got enough mental strength to get up and search with him. It took much longer since they did not have the use of their hands, but they did their best, and at last they did have success as a portion of the wall slid to the side, revealing a dark tunnel.

"There's no way to know where that leads," Mitsuhiko frowned. He had been hoping for a simple way into the next room. But this could be dangerous. They would not be able to hold anything to light their way, such as the candles on the bookshelf, and they could easily tumble down a hole in the floor or get into some other predicament just as disastrous.

"If we leave the panel open, we'll probably be able to see to the end of the tunnel," Genta objected. "How long could it possibly be?" Then he frowned, thinking he smelled something from under the bedroom door. "Hey, is that smoke?" he gasped then.

Mitsuhiko sniffed too, and then looked over at the door. "It is!" he exclaimed. "And it's coming in here!" His eyes narrowed. "We'll have to try the tunnel, even without light. Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll be a way out of the building!" He knew that it would not take long for the smoke to fill the room, especially since they could not stuff anything in the crack under the door. And he did not want to suffocate! The tunnel was their only chance.

"Then let's go!" Genta exclaimed, and ran inside without a second thought. Hoping that he was not making a mistake, Mitsuhiko quickly followed.

The pathway was long and narrow, or at least it seemed that way to the boys. The walls were covered with cobwebs, and the floor was badly cracked and rickety, and the duo had to tread very carefully in order to not take an unwelcome plunge in case the planks should not be able to hold together. Then they had to turn a corner, but instead of ending up in complete darkness, they could see another light up ahead. Gathering hope, they ran toward it as fast as they could and found themselves standing in front of a door.

"Should we try?" Genta asked.

Mitsuhiko nodded. "On the count of three! One . . . two . . . _three!_"

They threw themselves at the door, struggling to force it open. But, as with the other one, it would not budge. Then, to their astonishment, they heard familiar voices on the other side.

"Who's there?"

"It's Conan!" they both exclaimed, and between them they told of their misadventure while Ai picked the lock on the other side. As they finished, the door swung open and they fell into the room with relief. Once they were untied, they took in the scene with astonishment.

At least ten other children, all around their own ages, were gathered in the room. They seemed terrified, and stayed close together as they watched what was happening around them. Genta and Mitsuhiko greeted them, but the other kids only looked at them in reply, wide-eyed.

"They've been through some unspeakable things," Conan said quietly. "We have to get out of here right now!" As he spoke, smoke and flames were rapidly approaching the room from the tunnel that Genta and Mitsuhiko had abandoned.

"Have you seen Ayumi at all?" Ai asked them as they rushed for the back exit, which they had managed to open after getting in through the window.

"No, we haven't!" Genta exclaimed. "We were hoping she wasn't here, because the guy who lives here is really freaky!"

Conan glared ahead. "I hope she's not here, either, but I'm afraid she is," he said, more to himself. After everyone else was safely outside, he had to continue searching for her. He only hoped that the upstairs would not be blocked off by then. The flames had been close to engulfing the stairs from the top down when they had been rushing to find Genta and Mitsuhiko. And he had been almost certain that he had heard gunshots, though it could have been more of the ceiling caving in.

* * *

_He had been stunned when the order had come down that he had to kill Akemi. For a long time he had simply sat in the car, brooding and smoking. Akemi had been his childhood friend. She trusted him, even though they had grown apart since he had taken on the mantle of an assassin. He still cared about her, and about Shiho---codenamed Sherry now. How could he go to Akemi and pull the trigger?_

_Vodka had been with him, and though he did not fully understand Gin's inner struggle, he did know about Gin's feelings for Sherry. Killing her sister would undoubtedly drive a wedge between them. He did not speak, waiting to see what Gin would do. It was always best to not disturb him when he was thinking so deeply as he was now._

_At last the blonde started the engine. He did not offer an explanation, and Vodka finally asked, "Bro, what are we going to do?"_

_Gin grunted. "We're going to commit the billion yen robbery," he answered, "and release a trapped soul."_

_He could never forget the look of betrayal in Akemi's eyes when she had been met at the warehouse by Gin and Vodka. He had shot her, telling her that traitors had to die, and he had smirked, but his eyes had said so much more, so many things that he had not been able to put into words. _I promised you freedom from the Organization . . . and this is the only way I can grant it. _He did not know if Akemi ever understood. She had gazed back at him with those eyes filled with confusion, and betrayal, and hurt, and he had turned away, leaving her to die._

_Sherry never had been able to comprehend how he could have done it. Not that it was not understandable for her to feel that way, but they had both ended up feeling betrayed. Everything had fallen apart, all of their lives irrevocably changed by the Organization that had manipulated all of them as pawns. All of their stories were tragedies, and there were similar tales for almost everyone else in the crime syndicate._

Ayumi was dazed when they crashed to the floor. She was not certain how long she did not fully realize what was going on, but it was the flames that finally startled her back to awareness. As they came closer, the heat roared and nipped at her hand, and she cried out in pain. Struggling to get into a sitting position, she noticed that her pant leg was torn and that blood was running from a nasty cut that she had acquired during the fall. Biting her lip as she struggled not to let the tears break free, she looked to her side to see how Gin was faring.

She found him sprawled on his stomach, his hair flying out around him and concealing most of his face. He was still bleeding from the shoulder wound, and he was laying very still. Ayumi did what any normal seven-year-old would in such a situation---she panicked.

Crying in alarm, she shook him repeatedly, even though it hurt her burned hand to do so. The tears did break free then, and she sobbed, her small body trembling as she innocently pleaded for him to wake up. He could not be dead! He had to wake up. But it seemed that no matter how hard she tried, she could not get him to stir. At last, in despair, she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his long blonde locks.

"Gin-sama . . . why won't you wake up?" she wailed. The flames were closer to them now, and she clung to him in panic. "I need you! I don't want you to . . . to be dead!" And then she cried more, coming to another conclusion. "This is my fault! You wouldn't be hurt like this if it wasn't for me trying to find you! It's my fault. . . ." She trailed off, shuddering, and felt ready to give up all hope. He was most likely dead, and she probably would be as well. The smoke was starting to get to her, and she coughed. Her eyes were watering from it as well as the tears, and she was beginning to feel sleepy. But just before she completely gave in, she heard a voice from somewhere nearby.

"Try again."

She looked up, stunned, trying to see who had spoken. Then she gasped in astonishment. Standing amidst the flames was a beautiful woman in her early twenties, with black hair and blue eyes, just like Ayumi. She gave the child a kind smile, and though the fire was all around her, it did not seem to bother her in the least.

"Who are you?" Ayumi asked in awe.

"That doesn't matter," was the reply. "Just try again to wake him up. He's still alive, Ayumi. He'll help you get out of here."

Ayumi straightened up, trying to kneel on the floor in a way so as not to irritate her injured leg. "But . . . what about you?" she wanted to know.

"I'm okay," she smiled.

Trusting her, Ayumi shook Gin again, desperately, and called to him. "Gin-sama! Wake up. . . . Please wake up! We have to go!" Part of the ceiling crashed near them and she screamed in fright, hugging Gin again as she begged for him to hear her and revive.

And he did hear her. He had felt her shaking him through the mists of unconsciousness, but he had not been able to gather the strength to fully grasp onto awareness. When Ayumi shrieked, he was at last able to force himself back to the current situation.

As he did, he found that he had a pounding headache, which did not really surprise him when he remembered that part of the ceiling must have conked him. Growling in pain, he coughed and struggled to his hands and knees, gripping at the floor as he tried to ward off the dizziness. Then he looked for Ayumi and found her also kneeling, coughing violently from the fumes. He reached for her, drawing her close to him, and tried to study the room.

It seemed to have a similar layout to the one they had fallen out of, and the sole way out was through the window. But there were flames in the way. Gin glared at them. The only way he could hope to get Ayumi out would be to wrap her in his coat and then run into the fire, breaking the window and plummeting to the ground two floors down. He could do it under normal circumstances, but right now he still felt dazed. And yet he knew that he would have to try in spite of that.

Trying to get his balance, he stumbled up, holding the child close to him while tucking his hair into his coat with his free hand. He wondered where Vodka was and found himself wanting to think that his associate had made it outside.

"Gin-sama, we have to get the lady out too," Ayumi mumbled, burrowing into the folds of his coat. She was so thankful that he was alive, but the smoke was getting to her more and she could not properly express how happy she was about it. But she snuggled close, listening to his beating heart.

He stared at her. "What lady?" he demanded.

"The pretty lady with dark hair who told me to keep trying to wake you up," Ayumi told him, her voice muffled. "She was standing in the fire, but she said it didn't bother her. . . ."

Gin blanched. "There's no one here," he said gruffly. "Now, don't talk anymore. You've inhaled enough smoke as it is." Not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer, he took a deep breath and tore into the flames bordering the window. Glass shattered every which way, and he felt several pieces cut into his flesh, but he ignored them as the ground rushed up to meet them. He hit it on his feet and then dropped and rolled to put out whatever flames had caught onto his clothing.

At last he sat up again, coughing himself. He had taken in more smoke than he had realized. Muttering, he gently laid Ayumi down on a nearby patch of grass and then stepped back. She would be safe there. He could hear nearby voices. Her friends were coming for her. They would find her.

Ayumi coughed, reaching out desperately to grab him. "Gin-sama, don't leave me," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

He did not know what possessed him to do so, but he took her hand. Perhaps he had thought that she looked so pitiful, laying there, struggling to reach for him. He looked into her eyes seriously. "I can't stay," he told her, his voice quiet and somewhat rasping. "You'll be safe now . . . Ayumi."

She smiled weakly. "You called me by my name," she said softly, and closed her eyes.

Seeing that she seemed to be peaceful now, Gin straightened up and disappeared around a hedge on the property. He wondered what to do now. Going back into the house to look for Vodka was out of the question. If he had not made it out by now, then there was not any way that he could. And so Gin opted to head for the car instead, coughing and trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind.

He was met halfway there by his concerned ally, who seemed to be relatively alright, save for his torn clothes and a wound on his right arm, sustained during a gunfight with Ushio's lackeys---in which he had come out the victor.

Vodka stared when he saw Gin coming, as if he could not fully believe it, and went to his side, trying to steady him as he nearly tripped over a small, sloping hill. "Bro! What happened?" Vodka exclaimed. "I . . . I thought you were done for. . . ." And, he decided as he looked the blonde over, he nearly appeared half-dead in his disoriented state. When they got back to the base, Gin would have to visit the infirmary, whether he wanted to or not. And of course, Vodka knew that he would not want to.

"That makes two of us," Gin grunted. He would never admit it, but he was relieved to see the other. Vodka was safe, Ayumi was safe, he was safe. . . . They had all come out of this nightmare, except for Ushio and his men, and Gin felt certain that they had gotten exactly what they deserved.

"Where's the kid?" Vodka asked then as they made their way over the property back to the car.

"She's alright," Gin answered, and he paused slightly when he heard shouting from the direction he had came. They had found her. He smiled vaguely, and this time Vodka knew he had seen it.

* * *

"She's here! I found her!" Genta cried, running to Ayumi's form in the grass. For a moment, panic gripped him, but then her eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at him. He rocked back in relief, grinning at her. "She's hurt, but she's gonna be okay!"

The others quickly gathered around, and Dr. Agasa began tending to the laceration on her leg. "She couldn't have gotten here all by herself in this condition," he remarked, glancing back to Conan, who had been unable to get back into the house once they had left it---due to all possible entries on the first floor being blocked. The one that they had come out of had almost immediately been consumed by the fire. "Someone must have helped her," Dr. Agasa deduced now. "There's no other logical explanation."

"What happened, Ayumi-chan?" Genta demanded.

She continued to smile peacefully. "It was Gin-sama," she answered, unaware of the effect that this statement was having on Conan and Ai. They both regarded her in complete and utter disbelief.

"'Gin-sama'?" Conan cried, certain that he must have heard wrong. "Ayumi-chan, who is that?" He knew that he had seen the Porsche in front, but . . . this was not possible! Gin would never have helped her! Conan could not believe him capable of it, after all that he had witnessed Gin doing.

"He saved me from that awful man in the park," Ayumi said softly, "and again today. . . . He's killed people, but he's not a bad person. He's still kind and good, deep down . . . Gin-sama. . . . I wouldn't be okay without him. . . ." Her voice trailed off. She was exhausted from everything that she had been through, and she was in need of medical attention, but her injuries would heal. Within a week or so, she would be fine.

Conan swallowed hard and looked to Ai. "What . . . what do you think?" he stammered.

She shook her head. "It couldn't be," she answered, her voice strained. "It's not possible. . . ." She turned away. "He wouldn't. . . ." But a lingering doubt remained. Ayumi was so certain of it, and someone had to have helped her. Also, how would Ayumi even know Gin's name if she had not encountered him?

She gazed off into the distance, where she could see the sun about to rise. A man she knew long ago might have helped Ayumi, but she had believed him to have been long ago dead, buried by hatred and cruelty. But . . . had she been wrong? Did some part of him still exist? Would she ever know? . . . Or was the proof the little girl laying in front of her, who would be dead without him?


	8. Epilogue

**Notes: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! It meant a lot to me. Wow, I had no idea that this story would generate so much interest! I hope the readers will stick with me as I continue to explore the characters in future stories! And for this little epilogue, I decided to throw in a reference to my favorite anime, Yu-Gi-Oh!**

**Epilogue**

**A week and a half later**

Ran Mouri watched as the group known as the Detective Boys played happily in the park. Ayumi was better now, though her hand was still healing from the burn she had received, and she still needed to take things easy due to her leg. She was on the swings, and seemed content with that, giggling with joy as she went higher and higher.

She still missed Gin, and she wondered if she would ever see him again. She had the feeling that she would not, and yet she still wanted to hope that she would. He was surely alright, wherever he was, but she wanted to know for certain. In any case, she knew that she would never forget him. He would always hold a special place in her heart.

Ran shook her head. "I can't believe that they went through all of that. I was looking everywhere for them, but I didn't find them! I didn't know where they were until Dr. Agasa called me from the hospital," she frowned. "Honestly, they get into so much danger sometimes! It's just like it follows them around everywhere!" She knew how much they enjoyed playing detective, but it almost always seemed like it went too far and got them involved in serious problems. Honestly, she did not know what to do with them!

Sonoko grinned, drinking a soda. "Well, if I'd been along, I could've solved it a lot faster." Her eyes took on a dreamy look. "And then I could have seen this Gin person that Ayumi keeps talking about! Oh, he must be handsome!" She set the soda down and clasped her hands, gazing off into the distance.

Ran looked at her in disbelief. "Whether he saved her or not, he's still a criminal," she pointed out.

Sonoko frowned at her. "Well, that doesn't mean he wouldn't be good-looking," she pouted. "And the way Ayumi describes him, he sounds so dreamy!"

Ran sighed, knowing that it was not any use.

* * *

Once again Gin was at the sidewalk café, looking over the latest paper. Kaitou Kid had baffled the police once again. There had been a car crash on the highway. One of the famous gaming companies was developing some new sort of technology to use with a popular trading card game. Some well-known politician had been murdered. But there were not any more bewildering kidnappings following murders. He leaned back, satisfied.

"Bro . . . do you think the boss bought your story?"

Gin looked over at Vodka calmly. "I don't see why not. It wasn't a lie. I killed Ushio in self-defense." Idly he rubbed at his shoulder. It was still healing from the bullet he had taken there, and if he strained it too much it would ache. It was a source of annoyance to him, especially since he could do very little until he completely recovered. He could shoot with his right hand, but it was awkward. He had since been training himself to do better at that.

"Yeah . . . but what about the reason you gave for why he was mad at us?" Vodka leaned back, still feeling nervous. He was not certain at all of what would happen to them if the full truth behind the previous events ever got back to the Black Organization leader. Vodka already suspected that Vermouth somehow knew, judging by some remarks she had made back at the base, and since she was in so close with their boss, it seemed likely to Vodka that she might tell him something.

Gin grunted. "Ushio had a reputation for being paranoid," he replied. "It makes sense that he decided we hadn't given him all of the money he demanded, and that was enough to set him off." He lit a cigarette. "The man seemed to believe it."

"I don't think Vermouth did," Vodka ventured then.

"She can't prove anything," Gin answered. "And anyway, you know what she says---'a secret makes a woman beautiful.'" He made an expression of disgust. "She toys with us, but I don't think she's about to spill anything, especially when she can't prove it."

"Yeah, I guess. . . ." Vodka studied him. "What about the kid?"

Gin gave him a bored look. "What about her?"

"Well . . . she's probably been talking," Vodka pointed out. "She's nuts about you."

"There's not much that they can do about it now," Gin shrugged. "They can't trace us that way since Ushio's dead. He always covered his tracks well. They'll have a hard time finding anyone alive who worked for him." He turned the page. "And anyway, I won't be seeing the girl again. That's better for us both. I can't be looking after her, and she should find someone else to admire."

As he glanced up from the paper, he suddenly caught sight of a redhaired girl up the street. Intrigued by how familiar she looked, with the way her hair was cut and the kinds of clothes she was wearing, he watched her for a moment. She did not seemed to notice him at first, but then, feeling eyes upon her, she turned to look at him. Their eyes met---sapphires and emeralds. For a moment nothing happened, both too stunned by the encounter to do anything. In that instant, time stopped.

Then abruptly Gin stood up, knocking the chair to the ground and almost stumbling on it. He grabbed the edge of the table to regain his balance, but in the split-second it took to do that, the spectre vanished. He continued to stare at the spot where she had been, breathing heavily. He must have been mistaken. He would have had to have been seeing things! And yet that child had looked exactly like her . . . those eyes _were_ hers! He could never forget them.

Vodka stood as well, looking at Gin in confusion. "What is it?" he gasped. When he followed the blonde's gaze, he could not see anything. But Gin had obviously seen something, and it had gotten to him. There were very few things that could make him lose control that way, but now he looked absolutely shaken.

Gin did not register his comrade's voice at first. He was recalling what Ayumi had said about seeing a woman in the flames. She had only given a brief description, but it could have matched Akemi. And what he had seen now looked just like Shiho as a child. But that was _impossible_. He was starting to wonder if he should take a complete break for a few days. The stress of everything that had happened must be getting to him, he decided.

"Bro?"

He finally came back to the present when Vodka grabbed at his arm. "What did you see?" the shorter man exclaimed. "Is someone spying on us?" He looked ready to draw his gun, but Gin shook his head, finally regaining his composure.

"I didn't see anything," he grunted, heading for the car. "Only . . . a ghost from the past."

Bewildered, Vodka followed him.

* * *

Ai hid around the side of a building, trying to catch her breath. She had not realized Gin was there. She never would have realized, if she had not felt his piercing gaze. When she had turned to face him, so many emotions had crashed through her heart and soul---alarm, panic, horror, and something else that she was not entirely sure about. She had looked into those green eyes and had seen a hardened, cold killer looking back at her, the same as she had when encountering him on the rooftop of the hotel. But she had also seen a flicker of something positive that she remembered, a trace of the man whom she had loved.

She gazed up at the skies, which were clouding over with the prospect of further snow. _Why did you save Ayumi?_ she asked silently. _I don't see how you would think that doing that would benefit you. Were you just doing something to be kind, for once? I thought that part of you was dead._ She wanted to go to him, to confront him about what had happened with Ayumi, but she knew that she could not. She could not have her secret identity revealed. Any meeting between her and Gin would have to wait until she had developed a working antidote for the apoptoxin. But . . . they would meet again someday, she vowed to herself. Only now she was even less sure what would happen when they did.

She pushed herself away from the building, tears filling her eyes. She did not want to think about him, or what they had once had together, but ever since Ayumi's experience she had not been able to get him out of her mind. She had been remembering her childhood, growing up with him . . . of how much she had loved him . . . and of how she had thought he had loved her. And she remembered how her world had came crashing down when he had murdered Akemi. How could he have done that to her sister, his best friend? How could he have betrayed them in that way?

She gripped her arms as she started to walk slowly home, amidst the snow as it began to gently fall. She knew she would never understand. How could he have done those things and yet still protected Ayumi? It did not make sense to her.

But she did not want to think about it anymore. She wanted to go home, back to her new life, and forget what she had lost in her old one. And yet . . . she knew that she never would, or could. She would always miss Akemi . . . and the Gin whom she had believed she had known.

Her thoughts turned to the woman Ayumi had described, the one who had encouraged her. She had paled when Ayumi had first spoken of the phantom. It sounded like Akemi, and Ai wondered if it was at all possible. She was a scientist. She did not know if she believed that people's spirits lived on after death, or indeed, if there was such a thing as a spirit in the first place. But if that were so, she could easily imagine her sister returning to comfort an innocent child such as Ayumi. She smiled slightly as she continued to walk through the flurry. It was a nice thought, at any rate. It gave her a certain amount of hope.

And that was always something she could use.


End file.
